


In The Spaces Between Words

by shinigami_yumi



Category: Death Note
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Complete, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-08
Updated: 2008-06-08
Packaged: 2017-10-30 16:13:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 31,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/333608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinigami_yumi/pseuds/shinigami_yumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of character- and relationship-driven "hidden scenes" set throughout the Yotsuba arc. "There was no time; it was never enough; they'd never had any."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Half-Pain

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for the whole series.

_Rather that you speak no more  
lest your words do naught but hurt,  
and let your silence do the talking  
for I love it all the more  
Your voice is harsh; your tone is curt,  
although your words hold no ill meaning  
Your murmurs vague, your whispers hoarse,  
though in your touch I sense warm feeling  
So stay those vocals cold,  
and hold me close till the pale morning  
With each syllable more love is lost  
It's best to leave your reasoning  
In the spaces between words,  
our perfect silent little world,  
you will hold my hand and smile,  
and I'll drink in your gentleness  
In the spaces between words,  
when all your questions have grown old,  
we'll go back to our unique style  
and forget these lonely lies,  
our endless games 'neath autumn skies._

The electric kettle clicked off as the sound of water bubbling to boil filled the silence in the small kitchenette. Yagami Light slid a sideways glance at the other person in the room as he poured some of the hot water into a bowl. Dipping part of a small towel into the liquid, he dabbed at the bruises forming on his face, wincing slightly at the heat as he continued to watch the detective nibbling on his right thumb, clearly lost in his thoughts, thoughts that Light was obviously Kira and had somehow found a way to transfer his powers to someone else while in prison.

And that’s where this had started. He’d suddenly found himself locked up in a prison cell, of his own volition no less, wondering what had come over him to make him tell a certain eccentric private investigator that he could be a well-known mass murderer. Of course he wasn’t Kira; he’d never even stolen a pen in his life, let alone kill a human being, what more murder hundreds of people. He just didn’t have it in him. Also, he was fairly certain one didn’t commit multiple homicides all over the globe and then simply forget it ever happened. He’d heard of suppressed memories, but those generally resurfaced under shock, stress or hypnosis, and the detective had tried all but the last on him. Or perhaps he had indeed once hypnotized him, and Light just didn’t remember.

First, L a.k.a. Ryuuzaki and/or Ryuuga Hideki had insisted on keeping him incarcerated for an innumerable number of days under his adamant belief that Yagami Light and the First Kira were one and the same, hoping to force a confession under pressure. The detective’s conviction was so strong, in fact, that Light was quite ready to plead coercion near the end of the prison term. It was true that if you told someone something often enough for long enough, he/she would eventually start to believe it, and the sugar-addict had certainly spent a long time drilling the supposed fact that he was Kira into him, whether by implying it or just outright saying it. That might have been why he had done something as ludicrous as asking to be imprisoned.

Then, the genius had made his father take him to some deserted spot and shoot him just to see if he would crack and kill his father under the threat of death. It may have been a blank, but at that range, even a blank could kill. All it took was half an inch to the right, and Yagami Light would have been no more. The next to come in the detective’s list of drastic measures was this chain that now clinked softly between them as he continued pressing the hot towel to his jaw, keeping them together 24/7. As a result, he’d already had to endure the insomniac’s ridiculous sleeping schedule, or rather the lack thereof, for the past few days. And now, said insomniac was saying he had no motivation to continue the investigation because he was _depressed_ , depressed because he had wanted Light to be Kira and had been proven wrong. After all that hell he’d put Light through, if that wasn’t asking for a fight, the brunet didn’t know what was.

So he had hit him and here they were in the kitchenette of the suite they shared with an awkward silence between them as he dabbed at the sore parts of his visage to keep it from bruising too badly in the morning while the other simply slouched slightly against the kitchen counter, nibbling on his thumb absently. He noted the redness of the other’s cheek and brow where he’d hit the detective earlier as he dipped the towel into the steaming water again; it would probably bruise if something wasn’t done about it, but the other didn’t seem to care. Light wondered why _he_ cared. It was probably for the best that Matsuda had called the room with some inane facts on Misa’s rising popularity. Had he not interrupted them, they would probably in far worse shape now.

L flinched at the sensation of a very hot towel being pressed gently to his sore cheek, brought out of his reverie to blink up at his companion, slightly puzzled by the action. He hadn’t noticed when the brunet had stepped closer to tend the injury he himself had incurred, which was bad, since he should never take his eyes off a suspect as dangerous as Yagami Light. Even so, saying that he had almost wanted the other to be Kira was probably going too far after everything he had put the boy through. He couldn’t blame the other for hitting him, but he still wondered if it was just an act on Kira’s part to convince him that his suspicions were wrong.

Either Light was Kira and was acting upset that he felt unmotivated to continue the investigation just to avoid suspicion, or he really wasn’t Kira and felt upset that L didn’t feel like continuing the investigation after having put him through all that mental hell. He winced again as the hot towel was dabbed at the bridge of his nose. Maybe Light wasn’t Kira, since Kira wouldn’t care if he died, let alone if he had a large blue-black patch on his face the next day. Or perhaps it was all an act, an act to make him lower his guard and stop suspecting his first and only friend of being the mass murderer that he probably was. The detective repressed a sigh; he really was depressed. Second-guessing himself wasn’t going anywhere.

“Hold still,” the other muttered, still pressing the towel to the sore area under raven bangs lightly. “It’ll bruise if you just leave it.”

He silently obeyed, still feeling discomfited about the whole situation. It didn’t help that the brunet was invading a little too much of his personal space for comfort. The heavy silence stretched and stretched. And finally, even he, who had always been accustomed to silence and feelings of awkwardness around other people, couldn’t stand it any longer.

“Light-kun… I apologize…” he murmured quietly, peering directly at Light’s face to see the other’s reaction. “…about what I said earlier.”

Deep hazel eyes met midnight ones briefly before the other turned away to place the towel in the bowl and move the bowl to the sink. “Forget it.”

Had there been a flash of emotion in that brief shared gaze? If so, what was it? Perhaps he had simply imagined it, or if he hadn’t, it might cost him his life someday for being unable to read it in advance.

“Ryuuzaki,” the brunet began quietly, interrupting his ponderings again.

He simply glanced over to show he was listening.

“I guess we’ll be getting some decent sleep tonight..?”

Well, since he wasn’t feeling very motivated to go over the investigation again, he supposed they may as well catch up on some sleep. It was a habit of his not to sleep more than two or three hours per day, but he knew Light was used to sleeping at least seven hours out of twenty-four, and the past few days must have been tiring for the college student, since he’d been rather insensitive and hadn’t left the computers for nearly three days straight, thereby somewhat forcing the other to sleep beside him on the couch. It couldn’t have been very restful if one wasn’t accustomed to it. Even as he considered it, the brunet covered a yawn with his right hand, and he found himself thinking that the other had an air about him that gave even the most mundane action a measured elegance. He shook himself slightly to rid himself of that peculiar thought.

“Yes, I suppose we shall,” he replied thoughtfully.

A small smile curved those elegant lips at that. “Hmm… Come on then.”

The detective shoved his hands in his pockets and trailed after his new roommate, enjoying the feeling of his bare feet scuffing the suite’s fuzzy jade green carpet. L was a light sleeper, and he didn’t sleep much in any case, so he’d probably awake before Light as usual. He’d probably let the other boy sleep in this time though. It really wouldn’t do anyone any good if the brunet fell sick. It’s also said that lack of sleep makes a normal person cranky and agitated, so maybe if he let the younger man sleep, they’d stop getting into such petty fights. Or maybe, he admitted, the fights would cease if he just kept his conviction that Light was Kira to himself.


	2. Sleepless Beauty

Click. Tap-tap.  
Tap-tap-tap, tap-tap.  
Tap, click, tap-tap-tap.  
Tap-tap, tap-tap-tap-tap, tap, tap-tap-tap-tap-tap.  
Tap-tap-tap-tap, click.

Yagami Light cracked an eye open blearily at the repetitive sounds of fingers tapping keys and quickly shut it again against the glare of the laptop’s artificial light in the gloom of the bedroom. He groaned softly. The tapping stopped as fingers stilled.

“E—Ryuuzaki. What are you doing?” he near-demanded. Only the realization that he didn’t actually know what time it was with the thick curtains over the windows kept him from adding the words, ‘at this Godforsaken hour.’ “What time is it anyway?”

L blinked wide eyes at the half-awake form of the genius beside him before obligingly glancing at the clock on his laptop’s taskbar. It took barely a moment for him to do the time zone math required to convert the figures to Japanese time. “3:37am,” he replied.

“Jesus,” the brunet swore, rolling over to face away from the garish glow, although he wasn’t quite sure he believed in the person whose name he was using so lightly.

“And back to your original question, I’m looking over the facts we have on Kira again.”

“Hmm…”

“I apologize, Light-kun. Did I wake you?”

“No, I had a bad dream,” he bit out the sarcastic retort.

The fingers returned to what they were doing moments ago, and the tapping resumed much to Light’s annoyance.

“What was the dream about?”

The brunet took a deep breath to fight back the sudden urge he had to reach over and strangle the eccentric detective. Not only had the oddball completely missed the undertone of sarcasm, he was also asking not because he was sincerely concerned or curious, but because he was looking for a subconscious sign that Yagami Light was Kira. Yes, oh yes, he knew perfectly how that twisted brilliant mind worked. He forced a smile even though he was aware the other couldn’t see him from that angle and had no surveillance camera monitors to help. It almost made him feel better, and that was what counted.

“Tapping keys,” he answered evenly.

Those slender fingers stilled again as their owner finally picked up on the sarcasm in his words. “I… I’m sorry, Yagami-kun… I couldn’t sleep.”

Well, it was a teeny bit of consolation that L really did sound apologetic this time. “It might help if you quit consuming so much sugar and caffeine,” he suggested without turning, somehow managing to keep the irritation out of his voice.

“Those are good for the brain,” the other argued as predicted.

And Light’s patience snapped so sharply it proverbially resounded in the room. He sat up abruptly, turning to the raven-haired man, and in one lightning-quick motion, shut the laptop with one hand while coiling the chain between them around the detective’s arms and torso. Then he moved the computer out of the way and tugged the effectively restrained insomniac down to the bed beside him. L blinked. He hadn’t even been given a chance to protest. Sleep deprivation seemed like quite a motivator.

“Light-ku—”

“If you can’t sleep, think. Or daydream. Or something, anything quiet. Just don’t wake me up before the sun rises, goddammit,” the brunet interjected crossly before he could even begin, settling back into sleep.

L wisely said nothing to that, and it wasn’t long before the other’s breaths slowed as he sunk back into slumber. Midnight eyes eventually came to rest on the visage nearby after minutes spent traveling the darkened room. His companion’s face looked serene and innocent in sleep, and the older man wondered how Yagami Light could possibly be Kira.

 _L, L… That would be precisely what he’d want you to think. That line of thought will get you killed,_ he told himself firmly.

Because Light was brilliant, insanely brilliant, and that was what made him dangerous. Despite being seven years his junior, Light was easily his match in intelligence, if not more. He also had the kind of charisma and knowledge of the innate workings of people that L believed could charm the birds out of the sky to eat from his palm if he truly put his will to it. Yagami Light was the perfect Kira. Yet he couldn’t help thinking that mad mass murderers couldn’t look so at peace, so… beautiful. The detective caught himself the instant the thought finished. That should be the last word he associated with his prime suspect. He shook his head slightly. Lack of sleep was probably doing strange things to his mind.

He could feel the body heat emanating off the lean form beside him, and it was pleasantly warm, especially since coiling the chain around him securely meant that the other had to almost hug him with the arm the chain was connected to. Light would most probably be horrified at the thought had he been awake enough to notice, although it mattered little to L. He struggled a little against the chains, hoping to free an arm, to no avail. L sighed somewhat mournfully. He couldn’t even nibble on his thumb while thinking. It would probably be approximately another one hour and seventeen minutes before the sugar and caffeine in his bloodstream wore off enough for him to fall asleep. He sighed again. Those were going to be a long four thousand six hundred and twenty seconds.


	3. Eyes On Me

The phrase ‘watching you watching me’ never seemed as apt as it did right now. Beside him, the world’s greatest detective sat, eyes flicking from his computer to the surveillance monitors and back every few minutes. L's attention was largely focused on the monitors in the top two rows, the ones playing the feeds from the cameras in this room and Misa’s, but mostly on the second screen from the left in the second row, the one that showed them both where they were sitting. The eccentric investigator was probably still looking out, if not overtly searching, for some sign that he was Kira.

He continued to gaze at the oddball out of the corner of his eye as he waited for his computer to finish a process it was working on. Raven hair was its usual haphazard mess, fluffy yet spiky at the same time, with a lock or two obscuring an onyx eye and a stark contrast against unhealthily pale skin. The slightly-too-big white long-sleeved shirt and baggy blue jeans clung loosely to the slender frame where the other sat in his usual position, hunched up on the chair with his toes curled around the edge of the seat, his hands tapping some keys on the keyboard intermittently. He was munching on a mouthful of the extra-rich chocolate cake Light had earlier declined as he continued running through the data they had come up with on the Yotsuba Corporation.

Now that the other had gotten some motivation back due to a new lead after he’d thought that they were back at square one, L had returned to his obsessive detective self, spending long days and nights running through the data they had acquired while having the others go to gather information that couldn’t be obtained from where they were even as Light hacked into the corporation’s secure files to see if he could find anything useful there. It seemed that the investigation was finally making some decent progress. All evidence indicated that Kira was certainly involved in the Yotsuba Corporation; they just needed to figure out the link.

Ryuuzaki blinked blank midnight eyes that seemed glazed over from the artificial light of the monitors for the first time in what seemed like umpteen minutes. Light watched as he blinked again; the lock of hair was probably finally irritating his left eye. As the other blinked a third time, the brunet caught himself a tad too late reaching over to brush the lock of hair away. Unusually wide black eyes immediately locked onto him, fixing him a piercing gaze, before they softened slightly and a bit of a grin curved the corners of chocolate-stained lips upwards slightly.

“Thanks, Yagami-kun.”

The way he said it seemed almost mocking, but that was probably just his lack of social skills and thereby faint ignorance of the great importance of intonation speaking, and Light chose to distract himself from the burst of annoyance by rising and stretching before smoothing out his smoky green shirt and khaki pants. The chain connecting them clinked noisily in the silence of the night as he glanced at his watch; the only other sound in room was the hum of various machinery. It was almost midnight. Not that suggesting that they stop for the night was likely to get anywhere with L.

“Let’s get some coffee, Ryuuzaki,” he said instead. What he really meant was that he needed coffee and because they were chained together, the raven-haired boy was going to have to go to the kitchenette with him for it, but there wasn’t much point in stating the obvious.

“Hm.” The other nodded amicably and clambered out of his chair to follow him.

It took little thought to put the water to boil in the electric kettle and find the cups, saucers, spoons and instant coffee. They waited the two minutes for the water to boil in silence, having little to say to each other. Then Light mixed the coffee, stirring his first, then the other’s and leaving the spoon in L’s cup. Taking the first sip of his blissfully black coffee, he watched as the insomniac added precisely three tiny pots of the pre-packed liquid creamer and stirred, resulting in a mixture the exact shade of the brown paper bag Matsuda had brought back for him from the cake shop that evening.

Next came the sugar, and he continued to observe absently as the sugar-addict added exactly seven cubes –white, brown, white, brown, white, brown and white, in that order- of sugar to the cup. The brunet suppressed a shudder. Drinking coffee that sweet was disgusting; had he been more of a coffee fan than he was, he’d call it sacrilege, but he wasn’t, so he remained silent. Holding the spoon between thumb and forefinger, the other stirred the mixture slowly before taking a sip. Apparently satisfied, the detective tossed the utensil carelessly into the sink with a clatter loud enough to make Light wince, and wince he did, immediately drawing intense onyx eyes to him. He met the other’s gaze straight on, wondering what nefarious ploy the world’s greatest detective had come up with this time to test the theory that he was indeed the First Kira. This was really getting old, but it truly seemed like L wouldn’t be satisfied until he had Light in the execution chamber as Kira beyond a shadow of doubt.

“Did you find anything interesting in their database, Light-kun?”

“No. I’ve only seen about ten percent of the files. Nothing out of the ordinary so far,” he replied tersely, swallowing another sip of coffee.

It annoyed him that the other couldn’t even decide what to call him, as if concerned with the appropriate level of familiarity one should have with a mass murderer. It was a vastly minor point, and it further annoyed him that something so trivial could get on his nerves so easily, but the other’s continuing insistence that he was Kira was wearing his patience thinner each day, and he knew the day he snapped and hit the investigator again was fast approaching.

To think L had once said Light was his first and only friend. Well, the detective was abso-fucking-lutely screwed up in his view of friendship, among other things. Friends helped each other in times of trouble, not tried to get each other into trouble. Friends believed each other when the rest of the world didn’t. And friends didn’t try their damnedest to get each other executed on the basis of gut feelings and intuitive suspicions. Heck, even the law presumes one is innocent until proven guilty. All things considered, L certainly wasn’t acting much like a friend.

“Mm…”

The other’s thumb and forefinger must be quite strong to hold things the way he always held them. It probably hurt when he pinched people. And that was another thing he was beginning to find immensely irritating about the detective. He always held things like –he searched for the appropriate analogy– like they were covered in germs and skin contact with them should therefore be minimized. Even the way he sat was improper. Not only was it a rude position in the presence of others, it also left Light reluctant to sit anywhere the other had once occupied, since he found it impossible not to wonder what L’s bare feet had picked up while walking around and then left on the seat.

Furthermore, it didn’t seem to bother L if he didn’t get to shower or change into a cleaner set of clothes everyday. Indeed, he seemed content to bathe once in three days and wear the same clothing throughout said three days had Light not insisted on getting a shower personally. It was disturbingly sloppy, and the brunet was certain that the only reason the other didn’t actually reek was because his passive nature kept him so still, he barely perspired. It was still disconcerting that anyone could put up with wearing the same shirt, the same pants, even the same pair of underwear for over twenty-four hours though. At least he now showered whenever Light did, since it was convenient that way, so this arrangement was doing the slob some good.

 _Oh, maybe that's why he holds things the way he does: to avoid transferring his germs to them!_ Light thought sardonically, rolling his eyes a little.

He shook himself slightly to rid his mind of the thoughts, knowing he would snap at the other the very next time he spoke if he continued down that line of thinking. It was immature, he knew, to list out all the things he disliked about L just to justify his resentment at being a murder suspect and having to spend every last moment of each day under the other’s intense scrutiny. Predictably, the motion got L’s attention faster than a bowl of icing sugar. This whole observation process was bordering on obsession. He pretended not to notice and finished his coffee, placing the cup in the sink for the cleaning staff to deal with the next day.

“I did find a few people who would stand to benefit significantly from the deaths though. I’ll see if I can find any others,” he told his companion, keeping his tone even.

“Great work, Yagami-kun.”

Light decided to remain silent as the urge to snap at his companion or punch him in the face again returned full force while L finished his coffee and put the cup in the sink with its partner before beginning the walk back to their computers. Another long night of investigating lay ahead of them.


	4. Clouds In My Coffee

"So… From Yagami-kun's findings on the Yotsuba Corporation, we have a total of twelve Kira suspects in the company out of the stack of employees Mogi-san compiled earlier," L surmised, eyes still busily scanning the pictures and brief profiles the brunet had compiled on his desk from where he was perched in his usual position on the chair he had pulled over.

"Yes. Please confirm and eliminate as necessary. I would like to know your opinion," Light answered easily, although anyone with half an ear (or perhaps a decently discerning one, since L had an unhealthy combination of ears and ignorance, which somewhat excluded him from the first rule) would have realized that the ease and civility was rather forced on his part.

"I agree with all of them, Yagami-kun. Your profiling ability is above mine."

"Your confidence is generosity itself, Ryuuzaki, but I was hoping for an independent analysis."

Being chained to this socially blind hermit was the most trying experience his patience had ever had to deal with, and the worst part was that the detective was so innocently unaware of the existence of something known as social norms that one couldn't even justifiably blame him for not adhering to them. Today was one of those days when Light thought ignorance should be a crime punishable by death. Oh God, he sounded like Kira. The brunet quickly tossed the idea as far out of mind as it was humanly possible lest the other somehow developed telepathy. Last he checked, L seemed to have the uncanny ability to materialize all kinds of skills just when he needed them; the only failure in that ability seemed to be passable social ones, unfortunately.

A thumb was brought to pale lips contemplatively. "Well, what do you think, everyone?" he opened the discussion to the rest of the investigation team instead.

"I think, Ryuuzaki, like Light says, it's what _you_ think that's important here," Yagami Souichirou answered evenly without missing a beat.

It was plain to everyone that together, Light and L were the brains of the group. L was the world's greatest detective and the leader of the investigation for a very good reason, and if _he_ admired Light's ingenuity, then they had little reason not to respect the boy's opinions as well. Not knowing what to say in the tense silence that resulted as L turned back to the information thoughtfully –yet another testament to his social ineptitude, since anyone else would probably have reassured them that their views did carry weight-, Matsuda quickly spotted a way out in an approaching Watari.

"Ah, the coffee's here," he announced as the elderly man placed a large tray on the coffee table before the couch. "Why don't we have a drink while thinking?" he suggested sheepishly and was quite relieved when Light was the first to get up and walk over for a cup of refreshment. It made him feel significantly less awkward about suggesting something like that in the situation at hand if either Light or Ryuuzaki found it agreeable.

Then he noticed what Light was doing and blinked widened eyes. Yagami Light was adding creamer to his coffee. It hadn't taken him long to notice that Light always drank his coffee black, so the sight of him adding two pots of liquid creamer was quite a surprise. The teen stirred the mixture, now the colour of the many paper bags littered around from what appeared to be a certain eccentric investigator's favourite cake shop, and calmly reached out –much to everyone's shock, and even the subdirector was staring at his son now- for the sugar bowl before adding five –white, brown, white, brown and white, in that order- sugar cubes to the cup. Before anyone could comment though, the brunet rose in a swift but graceful motion and carried the cup of coffee over to his desk to place before a certain sugar addict.

 _Well, that's nice of Light-kun,_ he thought as he poured and mixed his own cup of coffee before handing the coffee pot back to the younger genius, who silently poured himself a cup and took a sip of it black as usual.

Meanwhile, L was staring at the cup in what appeared to be a mixture of surprise and suspicion. It was a well-known fact that Ryuuzaki still suspected Light of being Kira despite evidence to the contrary, and it was an unsurprisingly long time before the detective finally reached for the cup, seemingly having decided that it was harmless. Already wide midnight eyes widened further in apparent astonishment at the first sip and a piercing gaze turned on the brunet. Suddenly, L smiled slightly.

"Light-kun, did you really memorize the precise amount of cream and sugar I put in my coffee?" It had been strange enough that Light would bring him the coffee, simple a gesture though it may be, with relations between them being less than pleasant as it were. It was so unexpected that he'd had to suspect it of dubious intent. When he realized that the drink had been mixed perfectly to his tastes, though, he couldn't help but smile. _Looks like I'm not the only one doing the watching. Are you looking for an opening as Kira, Light-kun, or is there some other reason you're letting me in on your observation?_

Light turned and returned the smile, certain that few, if any, would notice the slight strain in the expression. "No, I recall the colour though. This isn't as strong as the last one, so I adjusted accordingly," he replied.

"It's perfect, Light-kun. I should have you make coffee for me more often."

Matsuda looked from one genius to the other. There was something… strangely domestic about the conversation, but there was also a strained undertone to it that he wasn't sure he wasn't imagining.

Light sauntered closer to his 'friend' from behind and placed a hand on a bony shoulder, noting with mild satisfaction that the other tensed at the contact. "Are you sure about that, Ryuuzaki? Aren't you worried that I might poison you?" he asked pleasantly, only loud enough for the slender eccentric's ears. The scrutiny onyx eyes had given the cup failed to escape his notice, and it irked him that the raven-haired man was paranoid enough to suspect him of doing something to his coffee in front of the entire investigation team.

Twin obsidians slid to the hand upon their owner's shoulder. "It's not quite your style, Kira," the detective responded softly.

And Light found himself thinking that L was like a meeting of opposites and extremes. The older man's voice was deep, smooth and gentle in contrast to his abrupt mannerisms while his too-thin body hid an amazing amount of latent strength. His posture was always entirely too relaxed, yet he was one of the most guarded and paranoid people on the planet. His sloppy appearance hid a brilliant mind that also contrasted sharply with his lack of social and emotional awareness. Best of all, he could say someone was his first and only friend while striving to get them a death sentence.

He leaned down to murmur in the investigator's ear, taking a minute amount of sadistic satisfaction in the shiver the sensation of his breath on pale skin evoked. "Well… I could… put something like sodium pentathol into it and try to make you tell me your real name," he riposted sweetly.

There was a slight pause. "Is that a confession I hear, Kira?" L queried, barely above a whisper, tilting his head back slightly to get the brunet's face within his peripheral vision. Not that it mattered much, since Light probably knew as well as he did that the efficacy of such so-called truth serums was highly overrated.

"What do you think, L?" Light returned, his tone still saccharine. He wasn't Kira, but the point was that L thought he was and was obsessive with mixed conviction and paranoia.

L smiled gently at that. Light was teasing about his paranoia. "Maybe about fourteen percent. If you or I were Kira, we wouldn't be discussing our plans to kill each other."

"Mm, but because you are L, you'd think that I'm deliberately saying these things to make you think so," Light riposted, being sure to exhale down the other's slender neck as he spoke and delighting somewhat spitefully in the shudder that ran through that willowy body in response.

"You see, that's why I was depressed. Second-guessing myself like that has no closure," L explained, leaning forward and reaching for his cup to put some distance between himself and the brunet as he tried to force himself to relax. Extensive physical contact with other people made him uneasy, and Light was _far_ too close for comfort. "So… Will Light-kun keep making me coffee?" he asked playfully, changing the subject as he took another sip of the warm liquid.

He gazed at the other's reflection on the coffee as the younger genius smiled with mild amusement. "Maybe about… fourteen percent of the time," came the answer.

Somehow, Light didn't feel quite so annoyed at the strange detective anymore.


	5. Unwell

The many nights of little to no sleep had taken their toll, and Yagami Light was down with a slight fever today. L watched impassively as Misa fussed over what was, in his opinion, a mild and commonplace affliction as the Yagami boy silently pleaded with him through bloodshot russet eyes to please make her leave. They had gotten out of bed at the normal time and started working on the investigation after a light breakfast as usual. It hadn't taken him long to notice the other's sluggish movements, lack of focus and the way the younger genius kept rubbing his temples and forehead tiredly. When Light had turned to face him while replying his enquiry regarding the brunet's health, deep hazel eyes had been bloodshot. That was when he'd abruptly pressed a hand to an unusually warm forehead, pronounced the astonished boy sick and sent him to bed. Of course, that meant that he'd had to go along as well.

Naturally, Amane Misa soon caught wind of it –most likely from Matsuda, no doubt- and promptly threw a tantrum over not being informed earlier about "such a critical event befalling her beloved Light," demanding to be allowed up to the room to see her boyfriend. He'd relented, needless to say, since she had every right, really, and observing the two Kira suspects together might bring more truths to light. Misa was clearly nowhere nearly as brilliant as Light and therefore more likely to slip up if she was acting, especially around the brunet. It wasn't that her acting wasn't perfect; Amane Misa was probably a genius actress, but she wasn't as sharp as Light at figuring out what was and was not a clue to him. So here he was stuck with this almost painfully one-sided couple, watching the blonde lavish her overweening attentions and overbearing anxieties on the younger genius from where he sat in his usual position on the bed with his feet under the covers beside said prodigy, who looked like he'd almost rather be in hell.

"That pervert has been overworking MisaMisa's Light!" she complained rather loudly as she threw her arms protectively around Light, glaring daggers in his direction, and he wondered whether he was going to die, since all the Second Kira needed was the face, and the model was probably the sort that would kill over minute trivia like these.

Light sighed tiredly. "Misa, I'm working to free us both from an erroneous accusation. This has nothing to do with Ryuuzaki."

Just as he wondered why Light was bothering to lie blatantly in his defense, Misa insisted, "It has everything to do with him! If he didn't make those ridiculous accusations in the first place, MisaMisa and Light wouldn't be stuck here to begin with!" She briskly grabbed the small damp towel on the younger genius's forehead and dropped it into the basin of iced water on the floor before wringing, folding and replacing it. Then she turned to stick her tongue out at L, and he merely lifted a hand to nibble on his thumb, successfully ignoring and repressing the childish urge to return the gesture.

"I'm here of my own free will, Misa. It can't be helped that the evidence is against us. That's why I have to make sure the real culprit is caught. You should understand that," Light told her patiently. It was obvious to the detective that whatever patience the boy had was quickly dissipating, and it probably wouldn't be long before Light snapped.

Misa pouted but didn't argue. Instead, she asked, "Have you taken any medication yet?" Her hazel eyes were brimming with concern and worry.

"Yes, Watari brought some paracetamol after taking my temperature," Light replied, deceptively calm.

"What was the temperature?"

"38.5 degrees Celsius."

"Oh no! That's high! Has Light been sponge-bathed in cool water yet?"

He watched as the boy squeezed russet eyes shut, clearly repressing the urge to scream. "No. And it's actually only 1.5 degrees above normal."

"Oh. Still… Let MisaMisa do that for Light!" She reached for the towel, but Light grabbed her wrist to stop her.

"There's no need for that. I just need some sleep." He smiled, but it was forced, and L figured that if he could tell, then the young actress couldn't possibly be oblivious.

The spirit of enthusiasm proverbially rose out of the girl's body and flew away. "Alright then," she said with only a mild pout, something that he was certain wouldn't faze Yagami Light in the least. "Sleep well, Light."

She leaned closer and pressed a chaste kiss to Light's lips before reaching up to take the towel to dip it in the basin of iced water again. After she had wrung the cloth, folded it neatly and placed it back on the brunet's forehead, she tucked the blankets more snugly around him. Light closed his eyes pretending to sleep, hoping she would take the hint and go away, but ten minutes later, she still showed no sign of intending to leave. Silently cursing a certain private investigator, he reached out under the coverlets to pinch L's ankle. He felt raven eyes train on him instantly, and began to trace characters on the other's foot, scraping his nail lightly over cool dry skin.

L blinked wide obsidians down at the Yagami boy's seemingly relaxed and peaceful face as he felt a fingernail tracing something on his foot. _Line… Wait. One, two, three strokes… Mi…Horizontal line, one stroke down… no, two strokes down. Oh, sa. Misa. Misa wo… he… heya… Misa wo heya ni… Oh._ The younger genius wanted him to send Misa back to her room. Well, it wasn't as if he didn't already know that; he was simply waiting for Light to snap. People did irrational things when they were angry, so there was a higher chance of the boy letting something slip if he were Kira and simply acting. He took a moment to consider the profits and consequences of doing so, but eventually decided to take pity on the sick. In any case, there were many other ways to anger Yagami Light. "I believe it is time for Misa-san to return to her room," he announced, fishing out his mobile phone and pressing the speed dial for Watari. "Watari, please escort Misa-san back to her room," he said when the other picked up, hanging up thereafter without awaiting a response.

"No!" the blonde in question protested immediately. "You're not tearing us apart! Misa won't let you!" She threw her arms protectively around her beloved and clung on as if for dear life, glaring angrily at the detective.

Russet eyes opened as their owner sighed. "Misa, be a good girl and go back to your room."

"But… But…" Her eyes brimmed with moisture, yet another tact that wasn't going to work. "Misa wants to stay with Light…"

"I'll just be sleeping anyway," the boy reasoned.

"But who's going to take care of Light?"

"I will."

He tilted his head back slightly as two heads whipped around to face him, one at near breakneck speed, the other somewhat slower.

"Now, why would you do something like that?" Misa demanded suspiciously after a moment of shocked silence.

Light looked like he wasn't quite processing the situation.

L shrugged, moving to bite the nail of his middle finger instead. "I have to watch him anyway. And if it is simply keeping that towel cool enough to be useful, it will not be much of a bother."

Just then, there was a knock on the room's heavy wooden door before it opened several inches. "Ryuuzaki," Watari greeted, bowing his grayed head slightly. Then, "Misa-san."

Misa looked pleadingly at Light who simply looked expectantly from her to the door and back with the teeniest bit of apology in his expression, remorse that L didn't doubt was merely an affected civility.

"You may return later in the evening," he said as an afterthought. Perhaps she would do something later to make the Yagami boy really hit the roof and show his true colours.

The starlet visibly brightened at that even as Light forced a smile. Light was clearly angry at him as it were, so perhaps Misa's contribution wouldn't even be necessary.

"There you go, Misa. You can see me later."

She nodded with a cheerful smile, twirling slowly towards the door with her hands clasped behind her back. "Misa will bring Light nice, hot chicken soup or porridge later then!"

The younger genius nodded.

"Watari will get you what you need for that," L said with a glance at his guardian and assistant who inclined his head agreeably.

At that, Misa paused at the door. Turning to look at him, she reluctantly said, "I guess you're not so bad after all." Her light brown eyes were sincere and open. "But. You're still a pervert!" she accused huffily, pointing at him. "You like kinky shit like tying people up and handcuffs, and you want to be alone with Light all the time! Light belongs to MisaMisa, you pervert!"

She stuck out her tongue at him indignantly before storming out of the room with Watari at her heels, leaving him blinking wide eyes at the sudden change in attitude. Humans, especially the females of the species, were such complicated creatures. Why couldn't everything be simple like numbers, computers and machines? The instant the door clicked shut completely, Yagami Light turned to him with a murderous look that immediately raised the likelihood of the boy's being Kira by about fifteen percent. If looks could kill, he was certain he would be dead by now. Well, alright, maybe Light wasn't Kira then. However, it was still too early to discount the possibility, since if Kira needed a name and a face to kill, then he obviously didn't kill by simply looking at a person. The problem was he still didn't know how it was done.

He met Light's gaze, thinking of Kira, and found his thoughts drawn to the Greek myth of Medusa he'd once read as a child. Medusa with the terribly beautiful face and venomous snakes for hair, the Gorgon whose one look would turn you to stone, and Kira with the façade of justice and the ways of violence and death, the harsh and mysterious arbitrator whose slightest whim could kill you—the two made such a striking parallel. And if Light were Kira, then he was certainly a Medusa with his striking good looks belying his twisted and corrupted brilliant mind, a mind that could find such unfathomable methods to rid the world of evildoers and those that opposed him. Powerful, yes, beyond human, yes, but not indestructible, as Perseus proved when he slew the terrifying yet beautiful monster and as he certainly believed Kira to be as well.

"You did that on purpose," Light accused angrily.

"That depends on what you are referring to, Yagami-kun," he replied nonchalantly.

"Don't Yagami-kun me, Ryuuzaki. You knew I wanted her to leave aeons ago and that I would much prefer she not return later," Light declared crossly, glaring up at him.

"Correct," he affirmed without even batting an eye, seeing no reason to pretend it was unintentional. "I wanted to see you lose your temper at her."

A pause. "So that I might let something Kira-like slip if I'm hiding anything at all," the younger genius surmised slowly.

"Yes."

"Or so that she would unthinkingly let something slip while quarrelling with me."

"Yes."

"If I were Kira, I would kill you right now, Ryuuzaki," the boy hissed vehemently through gritted teeth, rolling onto his side to face away from him.

For a long moment, L said nothing, certain that the only reason a fight hadn't broken out yet was Light's current physical condition. Perhaps the brunet really wasn't Kira; if he were, he wouldn't say 'if I were Kira' in that almost wishful way. He wondered if there was any effective way to test the theory at all. It was depressing, the way they never seemed to get anywhere with this investigation.

Light hid a sigh. L was never going to let that theory of him and Misa being Kira rest. It was frustrating how the detective spent each day coming up with ways and means to test said theory. Even sick as he was now, the other refused to allow him a day's peace. Suddenly, a sharp cry of pain from behind him had him jolting into a sitting position in alarm, all his anger forgotten as the older man's hand rose abruptly to fist in his white shirt over his heart. The sugar addict toppled onto his side, another sound of pain escaping chapped lips, and writhed in agony, right hand clutching at his heart like it hurt terribly. Like he was having cardiac arrest.

 _A heart attack? Could it be Kira?_ "Ryuuzaki? What's wrong?" he asked, panic flooding his system as he moved closer to the other anxiously.

A strong pale hand closed desperately around his wrist in a painful grip. "Kira…" L whispered hoarsely as if with great effort.

"Hang in there… I'll call an ambulance!"

He reached over to fish the oddball's mobile phone out of the large denim pocket, the nearest phone around, only to have another sallow hand stop him. He looked up in shock to find the older man staring calmly at him with a serious look in onyx eyes, all traces of pain or suffering gone from the other's expression.

In a flash, he realized that the typically unorthodox detective had faked a heart attack to observe his reaction, another test to see if he was Kira, just as L taunted, "Afraid you'll be arrested if I died now, Kira?"

There was a moment of stunned silence wherein he proverbially died choking on the other's sheer gall as fury surged in his veins, and then he was shoving roughly at slim shoulders in a violent rage, yelling, "Christ, Ryuuzaki, quit being such an asshole!" He sat back down on his side of the mattress, as far away from the older man as he could get without leaving the bed, running a hand through his honey-brown hair as relief mingled with wrath to produce a heady mix of frustration that made him want to tear his hair out and/or throw something, preferably at the root of the problem. "I can't believe I was actually worried about someone like you!"

Abruptly, a wave of vertigo swept over him, most probably the fever catching up with him now that the adrenaline rush of panic had ebbed. The room tilted and spun, and he felt himself falling somehow before strong fingers wrapped around his forearm in a vice-like grip and pulled him back.

"You're not well, Light-kun. Lie back down," the insomniac instructed softly.

"As if you care," he retorted bitterly as he acquiesced anyway. L didn't care what happened to him; he only cared whether or not he was Kira.

A long pause followed, in which L tucked the blankets back snugly around him. "I apologize for that. It was insensitive of me," L said at last.

It was inexplicably hard to stay livid when the other was looking somewhat like a kicked puppy and sounding as sincerely remorseful as he'd ever heard from the socially inept eccentric. Light sighed, closing his eyes to sleep. "You've always had that callous disregard for others."

L remained silent, clambering gingerly over him to get to the floor on his side and retrieved the towel between two fingers from where it had fallen on his pillow to drop it into the basin of iced water. Pallid fingers wrung the piece of white cloth and dabbed it gently at the beads of sweat on his forehead before the towel was folded neatly and placed onto his forehead. "You… You were… worried about me?" the other asked tentatively at length.

"The only person around here who doesn't seem very human is you, Ryuuzaki," he riposted without missing a beat.

"When you say it like that, I feel quite terrible."

Light turned slightly and cracked an eye open to look at his companion and felt some of his annoyance returning. Honestly, the sleuth could at least try to look like he meant it. "If you're going to say it with that face, don't even bother," he responded, shutting his eyes again.

Wisely remaining silent where he crouched in his usual position on the floor, it was a long time before L finally said, "You should be sponge-bathed in cool water."

"Just let me sleep," Light groaned in reply, keeping russet eyes closed.

Another long pause, then, "Light-kun is angry with me," the detective concluded.

The younger genius threw his hands up in frustration and tossed the covers aside. "Fine. If it's that important to you, please be my guest. Or else you'll start saying that I don't want you doing anything of the sort because I have some mark on my body saying that I'm Kira, and I don't want you to find it," he bit out sarcastically.

L took the towel from the brunet's brow and dipped it back into the iced water. "Is there?" he asked as he wrung the fabric using only his fingers. At the dirty look the boy gave him, he shook his head slightly. "I apologize; stupid question. Please remove your shirt for this, Light-kun."

Light said nothing, simply doing as he was told, and L concentrated on wiping gently at tanned skin with the folded towel, occasionally cooling the cloth in the cold water again. Light shivered intermittently, and he asked, "Is it very cold?"

"Of course it is," came the sharp retort from between gritted teeth.

"Please sit up, Light-kun. I need to wipe your back as well," he requested, rising into his usual slouch.

Light complied, and when he was done, the boy lay back down. He pulled the blankets back around that lean, well-toned body before crouching again to wring the towel dry. As he placed the towel back on Light's forehead, he caught the other gazing up at him, all traces of anger gone from suddenly soft brown eyes, and found himself unable to look away. Twin pools of muted gold, muted to hide the brilliance in them till they seemed more like lakes of molten chocolate swirled with rich golden honey, were hypnotizing him, and he couldn't quite determine whether the gold he saw was a brilliance of the mind or the gleam of evil and corruption. Or perhaps it was simply an effect of the sunlight filtering in through the crack between the curtains playing with his imagination, teasing his inquisitive mind that stubbornly refused to leave the unknown the way it was.

"The only person who's ever done this for me is my mother," Light whispered quietly. "Thank you."

The curtains were drawn, and the room was dim; he had no choice but to stay, and he couldn't ascertain whether the sudden lethargy that came over him was all up in his mind. He climbed back into bed beside the ill teenager, who looked up at him questioningly as he slid under the covers as well.

"I figure I may as well take a nap, since I can't leave your side. Blankets reflect heat, so you'll feel less cold if there's more heat to be reflected," he explained.

Light just smiled then, saying nothing as he closed his eyes again to sleep, and L wasn't sure why the sight made his throat constrict, but he supposed he could probably figure it out when he next awoke.


	6. Sleeping Child

“If we look at all the Yotsuba-related deaths, we’ll see that all the victims either died in accidents or from various illnesses,” Light observed, showing L the list of victims and respective causes of death he’d compiled with some help from Matsuda.

“Graphing all the deaths…” the detective began, fingers flying across the keyboard of his laptop as he keyed in the data. “…we get a pattern of unnatural deaths similar to that of the Principal Kira.” Even as he enunciated the last three words, he glanced sideways at the younger genius.

If Light noticed, then he was pointedly ignoring the blatant insinuation. “More proof of Kira’s involvement.”

“Correct.”

L put the laptop down on the coffee table and pulled his knees closer to his chest. He nibbled lightly on a thumb, pensive. Clearly, neither Yagami Light nor Amane Misa was presently the one killing. Even the current Kira’s way of thinking differed significantly from that of the First and Second Kira. He wondered what would happen if Light really had been the Principal Kira, had simply lost his memories of that time and would eventually get his powers and memories back. Well, really, he supposed there was nothing to ponder on; if such was the case, the brunet would certainly kill him then. He looked sideways at the Yagami boy who was now reading a thick book. It was eleven at night. The boy probably needed a break from the case every now and then, and there was presently no new information for them to work with. Since Light couldn’t go out while chained to him, reading was a perfectly normal leisure activity. And maybe that was what drew his suspicions to Light; he was too… perfect, too unsuspicious, and therefore –speaking from experience-, in mysterious cases such as this one, most suspect.

Angling his head to peer at the pages, he read aloud the words at the very top, “Ralph Waldo Emerson.”

Light looked up at him. “Have you read any of his writings?”

“No. I have, however, read some Nietzsche,” he answered indifferently.

“Oh, I rather liked Jenseits von Gut und Böse, although I didn’t agree with everything he said in there.” [Jenseits von Gut und Böse – German for ‘Beyond Good and Evil’]

 _That seems like the kind of book Kira would like… Perhaps seventeen percent,_ he pondered silently to himself. Aloud, he replied, “I’m not terribly fond of philosophy. A lot of philosophers like to make exceedingly simple things seem very complicated, and much of what some say is impractical and unrealistic.” _And absolutely useless in solving cases,_ he added mentally. Philosophy presented ideals, and crime was far from ideal.

“True, perhaps, but it’s often interesting food for thought. Would you like to read with me?” Light invited with a smile, holding the book between them. “It’s always engaging to read what they think and then decide for yourself what is sound advice and what is elegant nonsense,” he reasoned with a laugh. “Emerson is also more interesting and flexible than Nietzsche, in my opinion.”

 _Then again, Kira is not the type to accept the opinions of others easily, since he feels that he is above the rest of humanity and a qualified arbitrator for all. Perhaps I should lower that to fifteen percent,_ L mused inwardly. He repressed sigh, mildly frustrated. _This never gets anywhere._

He hesitated before tentatively inching just a little closer on the tan suede settee they were sitting on and gazing at small black print on off-white pages. Light found the beginning of the essay he was reading and turned to it for the detective to understand the context of the later paragraphs. He read a little slower than he normally did in case L was a slower reader than he, however unlikely that may be, and made sure to keep the book where they could both read comfortably. One essay and a poem later, he felt a warm weight fall lightly on his left shoulder and turned to find that L appeared to have fallen asleep. Light silenced a chuckle and shook his head before returning to his reading even as the other began snoring very softly as usual.

Suddenly, he heard the approaching sound of soft footfalls on the carpet. The bright white overhead lights cast Mogi Kanzo’s shadow on the viridian flooring before he even thought to turn to check who it was, and he looked up to respectfully turn his attention on the older man.

“Not sleeping yet, Light-kun?” Mogi asked quietly, uncharacteristically speaking first.

“I will when I’m done with this essay I’m reading,” he replied in a whisper with a slight smile. “What about you, Mogi-san?”

“I came out to get something to drink and check around if all is well while I’m at it.”

“I see. Mogi-san has always been so dedicated and helpful. I cannot help but feel more motivated and confident as well,” Light commented sincerely.

The older man beamed. “If we all work hard together, I am sure we will soon capture Kira,” he said firmly, keeping his voice soft to avoid waking a certain sleuth.

The brunet returned the smile and nodded in agreement. “Ah… Mogi-san, if it’s not too much trouble, do you think you could get us a blanket?” he requested hesitantly. “It’s a little chilly tonight, and as you can see, I can’t move.”

“Sure.”

As the former policeman went to fetch the requested item from the nearest bedroom, he found himself thinking that Ryuuzaki was quite ingenious even in sleep. His subconscious mind seemed as capable of recognizing others as his conscious one, which was rather fascinating. This was the second time the raven-haired detective had fallen asleep with his head on Light’s shoulder. The last time that had happened, L had been sitting between Matsuda and Light on the couch, watching various camera feeds. He’d walked past the group at four in the morning to find Matsuda asleep at one corner of the sofa and Light asleep at the other. Ryuuzaki had had his head on the younger genius’s shoulder and his knees pulled up close to his chest in a foetal position like the one he was now in. He had also been sucking lightly on the tip of one thumb then, his soft snores only barely audible above the hum of machinery. It certainly wasn’t a matter of direction or distance either. Light had been on L’s left the last time, whereas he was now on Ryuuzaki’s right, and the distances between L and the other two had also been almost exactly the same the last time.

Mogi pulled the blanket from the bed and folded it neatly before carrying it out of the room and back to where the two youths were, watching as Light meticulously tucked the blanket around both Ryuuzaki and himself. The Yagami boy did this slowly, being extremely careful not to wake the insomniac, whispering his thanks and asking that he switch off the lights when he was done. Even as he excused himself to head to the kitchenette before returning to his quarters, the former policeman found himself pitying Light a little. Although they often clashed, the younger boy seemed to care a lot about the eccentric genius, but L remained insistent on suspecting him as Kira despite evidence to the contrary. Even their supposed friendship was probably a mere lie on the sleuth’s part to lure Kira in. It was rather sad that Light’s kindness may mean nothing to L. But perhaps if this was any indication, then maybe things were changing, and Ryuuzaki was warming up to his prime suspect. They really had a lot in common, and it wasn’t difficult for them to get along. He smiled a little as he switched the lights off as requested and wished Light luck in melting the ice around L’s heart.

It was pitch dark when L stirred, feeling a bit of an old fear before his mind was completely awake an instant later. He had been afraid of the dark as a child like most children, but had quickly realized that it was an utterly irrational fear. A warm weight lifted from his head, and he swiftly righted himself when he realized what he had been doing, straightening and moving away from the other’s pleasantly warm body. He had obviously fallen asleep while reading pointless philosophical babble and thereby forced Light to stay with him and sleep on the couch as well. The boy had even taken care to keep them both warm and had clearly managed to tuck the blanket around them both without waking him. He supposed he should apologize for the inconvenience, not to mention how he had just woken the other from what little sleep he got being chained to an insomniac and workaholic.

“I apologize, Light-kun. My body appears to have grown accustomed to your presence,” he said, looking guiltily into bleary russet eyes. “You should have woken me.” He averted his gaze, letting it fall to the woolen blanket covering them both. It was the colour of Light’s hair, he observed absently.

Knowing that L obviously didn’t intend or notice the implication he was making, Light ignored it. “It’s alright,” he replied reassuringly, gathering up the coverlet. “Come on, let’s go to bed,” he invited, standing.

L nodded silently, rising to follow the other. The bed was cold when they climbed in, and he didn’t complain when the younger genius moved a little closer to him than usual. He wondered when his subconscious had gotten used to being near Yagami Light and realized that he didn’t know. He was walking a treacherous path with this friendship, he knew, but as the now sound asleep brunet draped an arm around his waist, he suddenly wasn’t sure he wanted to turn back.


	7. Sometimes When We Touch

It was three in the morning, and the Kira Investigation Headquarters was deathly silent but for the hum of the air conditioning, computers and other machinery. Light’s vision was occasionally hazing over from the long time he had spent staring at the computer screen to look through data on Yotsuba and the deaths around it to see if he could narrow the short-listed twelve suspects down. He glanced sideways at L to take a break, wondering how the other could stare continuously at screens like that, almost without blinking, without feeling completely exhausted or his eyes blurring. L was absently eating a plate of prosciutto e melone, pushing the ham aside to eat only the melon, as he continued to shift his gaze between the computer screen and the surveillance camera monitors.

On a strange impulse, since he wasn’t really even hungry, he reached out and nicked a piece of ham. Prosciutto was expensive; if L wasn’t going to eat it, he may as well keep it from going to waste. As he pressed the thin slice of meat into his mouth, he felt intense dark eyes train on him piercingly. Not even needing to look to know that L was staring at him, since he had never really snagged any of the other’s snacks before, he closed his eyes briefly to rest them. Absently, he wondered if stealing the detective’s food constituted Kira-like actions in the other’s perspective, but at the present moment, he really couldn’t care less.

Suddenly, he heard the unpleasant grating sound of porcelain scraping against Formica and turned to look in the direction of the noise. L had pushed the plate closer to him. The melon was now all on the left side, nearer to the investigator, and the ham had been gathered on the right side, nearer to him. The fork had even been placed in the center between the two clusters of food. He grinned slightly, knowing that L would catch the expression in the surveillance camera monitors even if he wasn’t looking in Light’s direction, and reached for the fork to spear another slice of ham of it. He replaced the fork after eating the tidbit and returned to gazing at the screen.

Munching intermittently, Light returned to browsing through the data on his computer screen. Glancing at the figures, he quickly made a few calculations to see if anything stood out, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He went back to looking at the rest of the data, absently noting that L liked only the melon and he only the prosciutto. It occurred idly to him that they should probably eat together more often if that trend surfaced in other foods as well, since it would avoid scenarios like Sayu and him fighting over the same piece of chicken or the last cup of strawberry pudding.

The words he had been reading blurred before him, and he squeezed his eyes shut to rest them briefly, reaching out blindly for the fork to grab another slice of ham. Instead of cold hard metal, his fingers brushed warm soft skin, and he turned sharply to glance in that direction, eyes flying open in surprise as he withdrew his hand to find L reacting in kind. Deep hazel met glazed black for a long awkward moment before Light remembered his perfect manners.

“Sorry, you first. Please, your food,” he said.

The socially inept detective said nothing in response, averting his eyes as he fed himself another piece of melon, and Light shook his head in almost fond exasperation. Anyone else would have said something like, ‘No, you go ahead. It doesn’t matter, since we’re sharing.’ L was so sheltered from the ways -and ills, he added as an afterthought- of society, a sharp contrast to his raw genius and insolent daring. His speech was always polite, but his words were always blunt and tactless, his actions always unorthodox and insensitive. Often, it was annoying and usually led to problems within the team, eventually alienating the proud and quick-tempered Aizawa, but sometimes, he thought the other’s weird quirks were rather interesting. In times of boredom, it was fun to ponder on why he did the strange things he did, and Light wondered if any of the theories he’d come up with in passing were correct.

“Your eyes are tearing, Yagami-kun,” L observed suddenly, bringing him out of his reverie.

He blinked. “Yeah…” he agreed quietly, turning back to the file he was reading after snagging another slice of prosciutto.

“You should rest.”

Only courtesy kept him from snapping, ‘Like you care,’ back at the older man. Instead, he said, “Yeah… Just let me finish reading this page.”

L said nothing to that, simply turning back to his own set of data, watching his companion blinking furiously every few minutes or so out of the corner of his eye. Maybe Yagami Light wasn’t Kira. He wouldn’t really work this hard or persistently to catch himself, would he? Of course, he could simply be pretending. Or perhaps the power had passed on, and he didn’t know that he had been Kira anymore. Honestly, he thought this last possibility was the most likely, but there was no way to prove it, and it dug the question of whether someone briefly possessed and manipulated by the power still deserved the death penalty.

Sometimes, he was really sure Light was the Principal Kira; he fit all the characteristics perfectly, right down to the way of thinking involved. And sometimes, he doubted that belief; no one could act that well. But if –going by that last theory- he had been Kira and no longer remembered it, and Yagami Light the way he was now was a good person with a strong sense of justice, then would executing him now do anyone any good? Furthermore, there still existed the off chance that the power might return to him. What would L do then? Lost in his thoughts, he failed to notice the younger genius’s actions until the chain between them clinked noisily just as warm hands came to rest on his shoulders. He instantly tensed at the contact.

“You always sit like that. Doesn’t it strain your neck, back and shoulders when you stare at the computers that long in that position?”

He silenced a gasp as strong fingers began kneading the muscles in his neck and shoulders. “It—”

“See, you’re so stiff here,” his prime suspect interrupted before he could even begin his protest, thumbs rubbing up the back of his neck soothingly.

“I told you. I must sit like this,” he said, strained, cringing slightly as warm hands on his shoulders kneaded firmly, but he only raised a thumb to pale lips and began nibbling nervously on it, not wanting to admit that the tactile contact was making him uneasy. In truth, he was certain Light knew but was doing it anyway.

“Yeah, or your investigative abilities decrease by forty percent, I know.”

“Then, you want me to stop sitting like this because you know. Nineteen percent,” L taunted, wincing slightly as the other’s thumb pressed on a tendon in his shoulder.

Light chuckled. This was getting old. “Actually, as long as you really feel comfortable sitting like that, it doesn’t matter to me. I was just wondering how you can sit for so long in such a tiring position.”

He was almost getting used to this. Sometimes, L would playfully taunt him; at other times, he would seriously bait him. Always, some measure of it would be taken into earnest consideration for the probability chart in the detective’s mind, but there were always those he could laugh off and those he wanted to punch the sleuth for. Granted, he was going to beat L up nicely someday because he just knew the older man would find some way to piss him off that badly eventually, but he wasn’t about to let it be for the lack of him trying to at least get along peacefully. He was Yagami Light - popular, charming and friendly top student and perfect son, after all; he wasn’t going to allow L to be the only mar on his flawless social scoreboard. Besides, L had his likeable moments and positive aspects; if they got the whole Kira issue out of the way, he was sure they would get along just fine. He just had to stop rereading that long mental list he’d compiled of the other’s unsavoury habits to himself.

“It’s called ‘a force of habit,’ Light-kun,” the oddball replied, inexplicably finding himself beginning to relax as stiff and knotted muscles were rubbed and kneaded well. Had he really been that tense all this while? He hadn’t noticed the slight aches, and although he disliked physical contact with others, he had to admit that what Light was doing now didn’t feel so bad.

Light grinned slightly as he felt the detective slowly relaxing into a seemingly boneless position in the chair, leaning back into his touch. He closed his eyes; he was tired. This way, L would probably relax enough to actually go to bed. A rustle and crackle of plastic told him that his companion was popping another piece of candy from the pile on his desk into his mouth as he massaged the sides of the other’s neck in a circular motion. That was bad. Sweets kept L awake and alert. At this rate, Light might not get to sleep on a bed that night. Unless… No, that was not an option. A sugar addict didn’t relinquish his sweets. Speaking of which, he wondered why L was so fond of confectionery. It certainly wasn’t a matter of keeping alert, really, since L ate candy even when he wasn’t doing anything. While it was definitely a factor, if he said that was the only reason he ate so much candy, that was a load of bull.

“Ryuuzaki, why do you like sweet things so much?” he asked quietly, watching as the look on the other’s face grew pensive in response. Naturally, L wasn’t the sort to say something like, ‘I just do,’ he knew, or there wouldn’t be any point in asking.

“Mm… Did Light-kun’s parents give him a lot of sweets when he was little?” L queried contemplatively.

Light perpended the matter briefly, giving it due thought. “I suppose they gave me as much as was reasonably healthy,” he replied slowly.

The older man nodded in comprehension. “Then that must be it. I did not have parents to give me all the sweets I wanted when I was a child, so I suppose it is still a special treat to me,” he mused thoughtfully.

The younger genius smiled slightly in understanding. “Ryuuzaki is an orphan then?” He reached up to rub the other’s temples.

Obsidian eyes slid shut. “Correct,” came the murmured affirmative.

Light paused, wondering if he should chance asking the next question and provoking another round of the insomniac’s paranoia. Finally, he enquired tentatively, “Where were you born?”

Predictably, L tensed, eyes flying open in alarm as he straightened into a rare example of perfect posture. He could almost read the other’s thoughts going, _What am I doing? He is the First Kira. He is fishing for information, for a weakness, for my identity. I should never let my guard down._

“Ryuuzaki…” he whispered, pained.

“Are you asking as Kira, Yagami-kun?” the other demanded, his deep gentle voice now cold and suspicious.

Too exhausted to get angry, Light merely sighed. “I’d say I can’t possibly be asking as Kira, since I am not Kira, but there really is no sense in telling you that because I know you will never believe me. All I can say is that you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t think I should know. I won’t ask again.” He let his hands fall to his side as a deep sense of sorrow welled up inside him. Kira was an ever-present shadow on their friendship. Had Kira never existed, they may have been close friends, best friends even, but on the other hand, they would also never have met.

“Let’s go to sleep, Yagami-kun,” L said at length after a long moment of heavy silence, clambering out of his chair awkwardly. The man had absolutely no grace. He shoved his hands in his pockets and began walking to the bathroom.

Light nodded despite knowing that L couldn’t see him and trailed after the other. They took turns brushing their teeth before climbing into bed together. As usual, they each slept near one edge with their backs to each other. Light gazed out the windows at the starless night sky; it would probably rain tonight. Just when the curtains were drawn, there wasn’t even a moon to be seen. As he gazed on, it began raining, small drops of water drizzling down from the sky, and he somehow found himself thinking of the incident with Aizawa again.

“L..?” he called softly, hesitantly.

“Yes, Yagami-kun?”

“You don’t trust anyone, do you?”

“Least of all you, Kira,” L agreed flatly without missing a beat.

Light closed his eyes; he was simply too tired to start this customary quarrel right now. It wasn’t long before he felt himself drifting off as weariness overcame him. Just then…

“America.”

“Eh?” he responded sleepily.

“I was born in America,” the other clarified.

Fully awake now, he said, “I see,” realizing the gravity of the other’s words. Even now, L was most likely calculating the risk of telling him that, the odds that he really was Kira and the likelihood of him finding out his identity from just that alone. “Thank you,” he whispered softly, glad that the paranoid detective had chosen to share that bit about himself in the end, even if it seemed like he was risking his life in doing so.

He turned, only to find that L had already rolled over to face him and was staring at him piercingly as if daring him to try finding out his real name and killing him with the extra information given. The other was biting the nail on his right index finger. Light reached out tentatively across the distance between them to curl his fingers around the other’s left ones tightly. L flinched, but did not pull away.

“I promise you… We will catch Kira together. I think that if we believe in it from the bottom of our hearts, it will surely happen,” he said firmly. _L, you’re like a shard of broken glass, cutting everyone who touches you. But every shard of glass has two smooth surfaces. If I learn how to pick you up right, surely my fingers will not bleed. Someday, I want this friendship to be more than just a civility or pretense,_ he swore to himself silently. “Then we can tell each other all about ourselves without worrying if it will get us killed,” he added with a small smile.

Abruptly, L grinned widely. “Justice will definitely prevail,” he asserted, full of conviction as usual, squeezing Light’s fingers briefly for emphasis.

Light nodded before closing his eyes. “Goodnight, Ryuuzaki,” he murmured.

“Goodnight, Light-kun,” he heard the other reply, and it wasn’t long before he was deep asleep again. Meanwhile, the world’s greatest detective wondered when his heart would give out on him and why it was suddenly filled with this strange warm weight.


	8. If I Were Gay

Yagami Light closed his eyes as the warm spray of the shower bathed him, wetting his skin and hair. The heat eased tense muscles and calmed frayed nerves, and it was a long moment before he reached for the bottle of shampoo on the nearby metal wall rack. A lot of the tension had to do with a certain private investigator, who was even now waiting for him just beyond the shower curtain, sitting on the covered water closet the way he always did. As he massaged some of the fragrant liquid into his hair, he found himself wondering if L was scrutinizing his silhouette from where the detective was perched now just to make sure he wasn’t doing anything suspicious in the shower. There was probably no question about that.

He could almost feel the other’s eyes on him as he rinsed his hair. It was somewhat disturbing, but he strove to ignore it as he cleaned his face before moving on to the shower gel. He rinsed off quickly and turned the taps. There was a creak as L carefully rose from his perch on the water closet just as the sound of showering water stopped, and a large white towel was pushed past the shower curtain as usual. He took it and began drying himself. This was the only time the handcuffs connecting them were removed, only so they could discard their clothes, shower and dress.

When he pushed the shower curtain aside and stepped out carefully with the towel wrapped around his waist, L was already completely nude, and he averted his eyes from that far too skinny form with mild exasperation. Honestly, just because L had no modesty, he expected the rest of the world to have none as well. He used not to even have the decency to close the shower curtain until he’d eventually gotten the hint from Light’s pulling it closed for him several times to keep him from drenching the floor as he showered. His lack of concern for the state of his appearance and surroundings was disconcerting to say the least.

Sometimes, it was even an understatement to say that L was presumptuous. He always expected people to put up with his unorthodox and sometimes only borderline legal methods and ways. Had L not been the world’s greatest detective, he doubted anyone would want to work with him. It was no wonder the older man had no friends, Light surmised as he reached for the hairdryer and comb. His blunt and callous words and utter disregard of others’ opinions were often intolerable.

Yet Light doubted that L was deliberately or perhaps even consciously the way he was. It probably wouldn’t be wrong to say that L was presumptuous in his ignorance of how his actions affected other people. He had always been an introverted lone ranger working on cases anonymously; he didn’t often deal with anyone besides Watari, who was both accustomed to and indulgent of his peculiarities, so it was unsurprising that he was a lost cause at public relations.

He heard the shower being turned off and grabbed a towel off the rack to hand to the detective. Just as the other took it from him, it occurred to him that the only time L wasn’t pretty much outright staring at him was when L was in the shower, and he was outside dressing up. He had also never seen camera feeds from the bathroom on the monitors other than in Misa’s room, and he rarely watched those. It wasn’t as if he had to watch in secret anyway; Misa would readily act out the equivalent of a cliché pornographic film for him if that was what he wanted. Spying on something he could obtain easily was rather pointless.

“Is this alright, Ryuuzaki?” he asked sardonically without turning as the other stepped out with a towel around his waist as well. “You don’t get to watch what I’m doing when you’re busy showering.” He pulled on his dark green briefs and discarded the towel.

“Are you saying that I should be paying attention to what you do at this time then, Kira?” L riposted flatly, reaching for his dark blue boxers.

Light resisted the violent urge to grab the detective by the shoulders and yell that he wasn’t Kira until it got through the other’s seemingly impenetrable skull, since it wasn’t going to work; the detective’s skull wasn’t impenetrable for no reason. “Don’t you pay attention all the time anyway?” he retorted with mild annoyance, pulling his dark brown shirt over his head.

“There are cameras in this room as well,” L informed him matter-of-factly, tugging on another of the usual white long-sleeved T-shirts. “The feeds are recorded, and I watch all of them every night, every single angle.”

As he processed the fact that L did, in fact, scrutinize videos of him showering, Light was rather thankful he never got into the common male habit of jerking off in the shower. Suddenly, he felt rather disturbed. “Ryuuzaki.” He glanced at the oddball out of the corner of his eye as he pulled on a pair of khakis. When L turned to look at him after buttoning and zipping on one of the usual pairs of baggy blue jeans, he tentatively asked, “Are you gay?” Honestly, it was a valid question, since the other never showed the slightest interest whenever Misa was undressing or showering, and while her personality was rather lacking, the model was certainly beautiful enough to attract just about any straight male’s attention. The fact that he’d never seen L show interest in any specimen of female beauty, not even pictures, was suspicious. Even Misa had expressed her opinion that the other was potentially ‘that way,’ as she so delicately put it.

Intense midnight eyes fixed upon him the instant the query left his lips, and he repressed a tiny shudder. “You think so as well, Yagami-kun.” The vague intonation on the sentence left it dubious as to whether it was a question or simply a statement of fact. A thumb rose to pale lips, and the other tilted his head slightly while nibbling contemplatively on the digit. “What would you do if I said yes?”

Light turned to face his roommate fully. “I believe my first impulse would be to run as far away from you as possible,” he answered seriously with forced calm. “However, as that is not an option, I will settle for the fully rational request of an extension to the chains between the handcuffs and an extra bed, so that we may sleep separately.”

There was a long moment of somewhat heavy silence before L suddenly chuckled at that. It caught Light somewhat by surprise as he realized that he’d never heard the older man laugh. The sound was a soft rumble in the other’s chest accompanied with the barest exhalation of shallow breaths, as deep and smooth as the detective’s usually quiet and gentle voice. “I do not believe I am, Light-kun, although I will admit that I perhaps just never considered that possibility. Why do you ask?”

The younger genius relaxed slightly, feeling just a bit awkward for the idea having struck his mind at all, although he still privately felt that his concerns were justified. “I’ve never seen you show any interest in women, that’s all,” he muttered slightly sheepishly.

“And Yagami-kun is concerned because I watch all the videos of him showering,” L surmised quietly, pensive.

“Shouldn’t I be?” Light snapped, abruptly rather irritated.

“All I can say is that I am not doing any of this because I want to,” L said simply as he began walking towards the door.

“I’d almost rather you were,” Light muttered bitterly under his breath, keeping his eyes on a tiny bit of black mold developing between the pristine white tiles of the bathroom floor.

That had the detective spinning sharply to look at him as he walked past, halting abruptly. “What?”

“I said I’d rather you were doing all this because you were interested in me as something besides the prime suspect of mass homicide!!” Light yelled. He’d slammed the raven-haired man against the closed wooden door of the bathroom by slim shoulders before he’d even realized he was moving. The weight of what he’d just done sunk into him as he looked into stunned wide onyx orbs, and he let his hands on the other’s shoulders fall to his side, taking a step back. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, closing his eyes and breathing deeply to calm himself.

Silence stretched between them for a long moment before L turned and opened the door. “So am I,” he whispered before stepping out of the bathroom.

Light looked up at that, and in that precise moment, noticed the investigator’s hair. Unruly jet black locks were still sopping wet, dripping rivulets of water down a pale back and onto the floor, drenching the other’s shirt and soon the carpet and furniture as well. He let out a small sound of exasperation. At this rate, the carpet, the couch, the chairs and –God forbid- even the bed would be soaked. There was no way to properly stress just how disturbing L’s lack of concern for his appearance and surroundings often was. He reached out and grabbed the other’s pale slender wrist, pulling the older man back towards him as he picked up the hairdryer with his free hand.

Obsidian eyes peered up at him questioningly. “Y-Yagami-kun..?”

“For God’s sake, dry your hair before you drench everything in your path,” he chided by way of explanation as he flipped the switch and began drying the sodden mess. When some of the water began to splatter in the hot gust, he grabbed the nearest towel –his own- from beside the enamel sink and began toweling as he continued blow-drying.

“I do not believe in God,” L responded impassively, although he obligingly remained still.

“I’m not sure I do either. It’s just a manner of speaking,” Light retorted half-heartedly, wondering if L was deliberately being cheeky.

“I know…” the detective murmured. “Say, Light-kun, weren’t you just voicing your concerns regarding my sexuality?” His reflection in the mirror was inquisitive as it nibbled lightly on a thumb.

“Compared to having to sleep on a damp bed on one of the few nights I actually get to sleep on a bed at all, I’ll take that risk,” he replied jokingly with a wry grin, fluffing semi-dry hair lightly with the towel. He wasn’t sure which was more unsettling, that L was unconsciously flirting with him or that being aware of the fact didn’t bother him as much as it probably should have.

A tiny smile found its way to the other’s lips as he switched the hairdryer off. L reached for the nearest hairbrush and, holding it between two fingers as usual, pulled it carelessly through his hair several times just to get a few knots out and tug the fluffy strands out of his face, but they simply fell back into their usual state of disorder, and Light found himself thinking that L’s hair was as stubborn as the man himself. He trailed the other out of the bathroom, pushing the slightly affectionate thoughts out of his mind as L locked the handcuffs back around both their wrists. The only way to put an end to this nonsense was to capture Kira, and it was best that he focus on doing so. Kira was definitely going to pay for this hell he was being put through; he’d certainly make sure of that.


	9. What Child Is This

“Ryuuzaki,” Watari’s voice, slightly raspy with age, carried through the computer speakers with the barest hint of static.

L swivelled his chair and rolled closer to speak into the corresponding microphone. “Yes.”

“I have established contact with Aiber and Wedy. They should be arriving the day after tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Watari,” the detective replied around a mouthful of strawberry cheesecake.

Light absently wondered who Aiber and Wedy were as he flipped the page of the newspaper he was reading. He imagined people as peculiar as the one they were working for albeit perhaps a little less socially inept. On second thought, he realized that they were unlikely to be as strange as L, since the other’s level of eccentricity was far from common. He skimmed through the fourth page of local news, bored. People attributed totally unrelated deaths to Kira, and he had lost count of how many times he’d read the name in just one page. Seriously, what did the death of an average old man, apparently ten years before his time according to a supposedly reputable fortune teller, have to do with Kira? The guy was seventy-two and had neither a criminal record nor a connection to Yotsuba or the investigation, although a heart attack had indeed been the cause of death. The things some people said were just plain ridiculous, and the media seemed content to propagate their idiocy.

Turning to the business news section, he noted that Yotsuba’s share prices were still on the rise, having closed higher yesterday than the day before. The sudden death of a rival company’s Chief Executive Officer in a car accident while on holiday in Miami had caused the company’s stock prices to crash. The launch of another rival company’s new product had also been postponed due to the death of the Research and Development Lead in a fire at his home. Assuming it was indeed his work, Kira was definitely backing Yotsuba. Light glanced sideways at a certain private investigator who was now about halfway through his slice of cake, munching quietly as he scrutinized the rows and rows of surveillance camera monitors before him. It hadn’t taken him very long to notice that L always ate whatever fruit that adorned his cake last. He rather doubted that L was the save-the-best-for-last sort though, so perhaps the other didn’t like fruits nearly as much as he did cake.

Just as he finished the thought, he saw Matsuda approach the detective out of the corner of his eye. “Anou… Ryuuzaki..?”

“Yes, Matsuda-san?” L responded without so much as a glance in the other’s direction.

“Um… Do you like strawberries very much?” the former policeman asked hesitantly.

Wide raven eyes blinked once as their owner turned to stare piercingly at the slightly older man. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, I see you always eat the strawberry last, so I thought you may have been saving the best for last,” Matsuda reasoned sheepishly, scratching his head a little.

“Ah…” L nodded, understanding. “To the contrary, Matsuda-san, I find the fruit secondary to the cake. I eat it last because, in case I don’t finish the cake, I’d have eaten more cake instead of the fruit, which is no loss to me,” he explained around another mouthful.

“I see.”

Light smirked briefly in mild satisfaction; he had been right after all. He spent another fifteen minutes skimming through the World News section before closing the tabloid and tossing it carelessly onto the desk in front of him.

L watched out of the corner of his eye as the Japanese daily was tossed onto the desk in a strangely elegant arc. Perhaps Light was still killing criminals, and the other Kira was responsible for the deaths benefiting Yotsuba. No, that was unlikely, since the boy rarely read the papers or watched the news, and criminals died everyday. Yet if criminals died tomorrow… No, there was no way to determine that Light was the one killing unless he were caught in the act, which was difficult, since L had no idea what to look out for; he still didn’t know Kira’s method of killing. The younger genius also hadn’t done anything suspicious in the time that they had been chained together. Had he been wrong? But if his theory was right and Light had indeed just forgotten about ever being Kira, then that didn’t prove anything.

Light pushed off with his foot to wheel his chair closer to L’s and reported, “All three members of the robbery gang reported on the news yesterday have died of heart attacks. The serial rapist arrested in Italy the day before yesterday has also died of a heart attack in prison. The CEO of one of Yotsuba’s rival companies died last night in a car accident in Miami, and a fire burned down the house of another rival company’s R&D Lead, killing him and thereby postponing a new product launch. Yotsuba’s share prices continue to rise steadily while other companies’ have either fallen or remained unchanged.”

“It looks like more and more deaths are supporting the theory that Kira is connected to Yotsuba,” L mused, turning as he finished his last mouthful of cheesecake. If he had been hoping for a telltale change in facial expression, he was as usual sorely disappointed for the other was staring at his face and seemed to have heard naught of his baiting statement.

“Mmhm,” Light agreed distractedly, busy wondering exasperatedly how L had managed to get a glob of fresh cream on his forehead of all places. He reached out and cleaned it off with his index finger. “You eat like a toddler,” he grumbled, licking the cream off the digit when he couldn’t find a tissue nearby to wipe it off with. “How old are you anyway?”

“Hmm…” L gazed up at the ceiling contemplatively as he nibbled on the strawberry, wondering if he should tell his prime suspect personal data like that. “I’m twenty-five this year,” he said at last, deciding that there were probably enough orphans born in America in 1979 for it not to be a particularly risky piece of information.

Even if Light really were Kira, he couldn’t exactly run a search on the above criteria unnoticed while chained to him. Sometimes, he wondered just how much of their friendship was all a lie, but as if reading his mind, Light would choose that precise moment to do something so seemingly sincere, L would begin doubting and second-guessing himself all over again. Lost in his thoughts, he failed to notice that his revelation had been met with a moment of stunned silence from the entire team.

“Well, I suppose that makes sense,” the younger genius said slowly as everyone else returned their attention to their respective tasks.

“Yeah… Figures that a detective with that kind of reputation should be at least around that age,” Matsuda agreed as he helped Mogi sort the stack of Yotsuba Corporation employees’ profiles in alphabetical order by department.

L blinked. Twice. He turned to Light. “Is something the matter, Light-kun?”

“Not really. I guess we all thought you were somewhat younger, that’s all,” Light replied, stealing the strawberry for a small bite before putting it back on the small plate. The other’s childlike demeanour made it hard to believe that he was seven years his senior.

The sound of Watari chuckling to himself was heard through the speakers accompanied by a bit of static as L shrugged and popped the half-eaten berry into his mouth. He smiled slightly to himself as the tangy sweet juice flowed over his tongue and decided that he rather liked strawberries after all.


	10. Red and Black

“Matsuda, you idiot,” he heard L mutter beside him for the second time that night.

Light shook his head. Matsuda was always so eager to prove himself, and while that wasn’t a problem in itself, it was bad if it got them into fixes like these. Misa was now on the way there, and hopefully, L’s plan would keep them both alive. He certainly hoped things would work out right; otherwise, both Misa and Matsuda were lost. Behind them on the sofas, his father and Mogi-san smoked nervously on a cigarette each. Aiber was drinking idly from a small flask of brandy, while Wedy had dismantled her gun completely and was presently wiping each component clean. Next to him, L was still nibbling on his thumb, face pensive but otherwise impassive. He himself had been twirling a pen in one hand while opening and closing the flap of his cellphone in the other. He looked over at L out of the corner of his eye. The only indication of the detective’s anxiety was in the way he was biting his thumb. While he normally only nibbled lightly on the skin or nail, he was now chewing off pieces of skin.

“Ryuuzaki…”

Just then, before he could tell the other to stop before he hurt himself, the investigator winced slightly as a large drop of blood trickled down, staining his white skin a vivid red. In a flash, he was at L’s side, pulling the injured hand closer.

“Someone get a first-aid kit, please!” he called.

A rivulet of blood trickled down the other’s hand. It would soon stain L's white shirt sleeve, and Light couldn’t find a tissue nearby to wipe it, so he did the only thing he could think of, leaning forward to lap up the blood with his tongue. It was a sweet metallic tang in his mouth, probably due to a high blood glucose level. L's stare was piercing as his toes clenched the edge of his chair tightly. Then Light took the injured digit into his mouth and sucked lightly to swallow the fresh drops of blood, cleaning the wound tenderly with his tongue. L gasped softly, fidgeting slightly and biting his lip, and Light looked up into intense onyx eyes, holding that unreadable gaze with his own. All too soon, Mogi-san arrived with the first-aid kit, and Light lost his chance to decipher what was hidden beyond those fathomless black depths.

Yagami Souichirou observed his son’s concerned reactions and Ryuuzaki’s quiet acceptance of attention with a little relief. If L and Light were growing closer, then perhaps the percentage of Ryuuzaki’s suspicion of his son being Kira had decreased. As a father, he could not help but feel distressed that his offspring was suspect of mass homicide, especially since he was also a former subdirector of the National Police Agency, and it eased his heart a little that Ryuuzaki was beginning to let Light in.

He watched as the detective allowed Light to gently dab at the small nick with a cotton ball moistened with antiseptic liquid. Light seemed to care a lot about L, if the younger boy’s almost frantic alarm in response to the small cut was any measurement, although whether or not L reciprocated the feeling was rather dubious. It didn’t surprise him that the two felt a sense of kinship with each other despite their many clashes. Ryuuzaki was like an older, more eccentric and socially impaired version of his son, and he could see Light in L’s place easily. They were often the only ones who understood each other because their thinking was usually way ahead of the rest. It was fortunate that they had met, loathe though he was to give Kira any credit.

“This is the first time Ryuuzaki’s let anyone other than Watari see his face, I believe,” Wedy spoke up suddenly, sliding the last component of her reassembled gun into place with a resounding click.

“Indeed,” Aiber agreed next to her, swallowing another swig of cognac. He chuckled, glancing at Light carefully applying antiseptic cream to the sleuth’s thumb with a cotton bud. “He seems rather fond of the boy,” he observed.

L now had his chin between his knees, head tilted to the left to rest his cheek on one patella, and while he was unable to gauge the man’s facial expression from his vantage point, the position from which Ryuuzaki watched Light was the picture of adorable affection. Souichirou allowed a small smile to curve his lips. If Aiber said so, then perhaps L did think fondly of his son, since the con artist was clearly the resident expert on people.

“That he does,” Wedy concurred, uncrossing and crossing her legs again before leaning back into the soft cushions. “Hmm… I wonder if… Well, he does seem the sort, I suppose,” she mused aloud.

Clear blue eyes slid toward her, twinkling with amusement. “You think? The way he is, though, I sometimes wonder how he gets anything done.”

Red lips curled into a saucy grin. “Perhaps that’s a plus in itself.”

Having lost track of the foreigners’ conversation, Souichirou merely took comfort in the fact that they both thought L and Light were somewhat friends now. Meanwhile, Light had pressed a small piece of finger plaster firmly and neatly onto the cut. He looked up, dark amber meeting obsidian with a mysterious intensity.

“There, you should stop doing that,” Light chided softly.

“Thanks, Light-kun.” Wide black eyes were always glazed over and blank, hiding their owner’s thoughts and emotions almost flawlessly. Almost.

Light paused, unsure if he should say the next. “It’ll be alright,” he offered reassuringly as he squeezed a thin white hand before letting go.

Although he often seemed to see people as a means to an end and was distrustful of others to the point of paranoia, L was, in truth, a very kindhearted person. He was simply more inclined to seeing the big picture and thought it better to sacrifice a few to save many. With his high ideal of justice, he could have been a Kira supporter. No, he could have been Kira. If he could use a death row convict as a test subject to try to catch Kira, then certainly the only thing that kept him from supporting the massacre of criminals was compassion, a willingness to forgive past transgressions, allow a chance at repentance and give the benefit of doubt.

Light knew the detective was not as cold and ruthless as he made himself out to be. Sure, L still often made him want to violently assault someone or something in exasperation, but beyond that, he thought they were beginning to get along. He was actually starting to enjoy the other’s callous if not silent company, and sometimes, he thought if he could just reach out across that chasm that L had spent a good 20 years digging around himself, he’d find someone special he’d never get tired of being around. The ghost of a smile flitted across a pale visage, disappearing like the fragment of a dream, leaving Light wondering if he had simply imagined it. Then L nodded slightly.

“Just so you know, Yagami-kun, my suspicion of your being Kira has decreased by three percent,” L murmured nonchalantly. “Kira wouldn’t be so concerned about my having a small cut like that.”

Light wasn’t sure if the other meant it; it wasn’t like L not to second guess his prime suspect’s every single action. There was also the possibility that the world’s greatest detective was trying to lure his prey into complacency, but for once, he decided to take the sentence at face value. Light smiled, feeling one tiny step closer to understanding the enigma known as L.


	11. Falling Iris

“It’s impressive, Light-kun. Five out of the eight people in that secret meeting were in the list of twelve potential suspects you short-listed earlier,” L commented, a bit of genuine awe in his gentle bass.

Both geniuses were lying on their backs in bed, having just changed into their pyjamas –at least, Light actually wore pyjamas; L just slept in the same thing he wore all the time–, staring pensively up at the apple white ceiling in what little neon and moonlight they had filtering in through the crack between the curtains.

“Thank you. That was a great idea to save Matsuda back there, although I didn’t favour endangering Misa in the process,” Light replied sincerely.

“I have always admired Light-kun’s profiling abilities.”

“And I Ryuuzaki’s quick, sharp and inventive thinking,” he returned, wondering when they’d gone from disagreeing with each other to offering each other compliments.

He closed his eyes, trying to sleep. It was almost midnight; they both needed to rest. A long silence passed between them, and he soon felt himself drifting off, the fog of sleep falling gently over him like a blanket of clouds.

“I can’t sleep,” the detective said abruptly, chasing the clouds away faster than favonian winds.

“You eat too much sugar and drink too much black tea and coffee,” he retorted, blinking the sleep out of his eyes.

“Did I wake you?”

“Sort of.”

“I apologize.”

“Forget it.”

A pause. “Since we’re both awake now, we may as well—”

“No,” Light interrupted, sitting up in bed as he turned. “If we start working on anything now, you won’t even think of sleeping till dawn again. And even then, you’d probably just fall asleep in your chair. How about we go get some fresh air instead?”

L briefly contemplated the suggestion before agreeing. “Alright. Where do you want to go?” he asked, sitting up as well. It was probably a bad thing that Light could predict what he was going to say, but he couldn’t quite seem to feel upset about it presently.

“We could go up to the rooftop.”

Light swung his legs down to stand and waited for him to rise as well before leading him to the cupboard. He shrugged; it didn’t really matter to him where they went. Light opened the wardrobe and passed him a random coat.

“Here, put this on. It’s cold outside.”

He unlocked the handcuffs for them to put the coats on and locked them back in place thereafter before toeing on his shoes and following the younger genius out of the bedroom. They rode the elevator as high as it went in silence, and L couldn’t help wondering if Kira was bringing him to the roof to kill him the traditional way. Well, as long as they were wearing the handcuffs, that would mean that Light would fall with him. In any case, it wasn’t Kira’s style. There were another four flights of stairs to be climbed from the top floor to reach the roof, and he led the other through the door to this stairway still in silence, letting Light precede him up the stairs.

“I’ve never been up here before,” Light remarked casually, slowly climbing the steep steps.

“There’s never been any reason for us to be here yet,” he responded impassively.

Light laughed. “Well, there are only lightning arrestors, telecommunications equipment and the helicopter pad up there, right?”

“Correct.”

Of course, there were also surveillance cameras, but L decided not to share that bit, since if Kira didn’t know he was still being watched up there, he might let something slip. The rooftop had also been built to be difficult to access from outside except by air. There were no walls or rails to keep people from falling off, which may be dangerous, but it also meant hooks on climbing and gliding equipment had nowhere secure to latch on to. Even the top of the stairwell had been built in a semi-circular dome to eliminate grappling points. So unless they used a helicopter and alerted everyone in the vicinity of their break-in, it was pretty safe to say that the risk of anyone getting in through the roof was negligible, what with its being taller than all the buildings in its immediate circumference.

Lost in thought, L suddenly missed his step. Crying out as he slipped and failed to catch his balance, he flailed a little as he found himself falling backwards an instant before the chain on the handcuff jerked sharply as Light pulled on it. A warm hand closed around his wrist and tugged him up onto the landing where the other was standing, momentum propelling him into the boy’s arms. He gasped softly, pulling back slightly as he steadied himself, and was stunned to find himself missing Light’s warmth.

“Are you alright?” Light asked in concern, noticing L’s flushed face and shallow breaths as he held on to slim shoulders to steady the other.

L inhaled deeply to calm himself. “Ah… Yes. Yes, I’m fine.”

Light's lips curved into a relieved smile at that. “Then let’s go.”

They climbed up the last flight of stairs and exited the door out onto the rooftop. Light stretched slightly as he stepped onto the helicopter pad and turned to face him, walking backwards across the empty space. The cold breeze blew a bitter chill into his bones, and he tugged the younger boy’s dark grey knee-length coat more tightly around himself, inhaling the spicy scent of the other’s cologne. He lifted his hand his hand to accommodate as Light turned full circle, spreading his arms to feel the breeze and manoeuvring under the chain between them before continuing his backward meander across the landing circle.

“Is it cold?” Light asked, his lovely brown eyes, as always, full of genuine concern.

“A little,” he admitted, shoving his free hand into the coat’s pocket as he ambled after his receding companion.

“You’re too thin,” the brunet chided. “Start eating properly.”

Pointedly ignoring the advice, “Be careful… You might fall off,” he riposted.

His prime suspect smiled slightly at that. “Wouldn’t you fall with me then?” he murmured the question softly.

Alarm bells instantly went off in L’s head. Was that truly his plan? It wasn’t… No, it couldn’t be. Kira would go to great lengths to kill him, certainly, but not sacrifice his own life in the process; Kira would want to live on as the god of the new world he’d created. Unless Yagami Light had found a way to unlock the handcuffs? No, perhaps the younger genius planned on fighting him here to obtain the key. In that event, the cameras would record everything, and his goal would have been attained. It was perfectly worth the risk, and he had been prepared to lose his life since the moment he’d taken the case. And yet, even as he turned a challenging gaze on the other, he felt none of the triumphant satisfaction he had expected.

“Don’t tell me you brought me up here to kill me normally, Kira,” he scoffed condescendingly. “It’s not your style, and the very idea is nonsense.”

Light’s smiling visage immediately contorted in a mixture of fury and hurt, and he quickly turned away to hide it. “If it’s so nonsensical, L, it wouldn’t even cross your mind,” he bit the retort out harshly, clearly upset.

“Is that really your plan then?” the detective pressed with a taunting grin, wondering at the sudden ache in his chest.

“God, Ryuuzaki!” In a trice, Light had knocked him down to the floor with a thud that reverberated in his ears. “I swear, if it wasn’t already, it definitely sounds pretty damned brilliant now!” he yelled angrily.

L, slightly stunned and taken a little unawares, did not react. His back hurt slightly from the impact on concrete, but he ignored it, unable to tear his attention from his companion.

Russet eyes were squeezed shut as their owner inhaled a deep, calming breath and fisted his left hand in the dark gray canvas coat, letting his voice drop to a hoarse whisper. “All I wanted was a normal, friendly conversation. I was going to tell you that I would be careful not to fall off because I wouldn’t want you to fall with me,” Light slowly enunciated, evidently with great effort, most of which was going to maintaining his patience and composure.

A long silence ensued as older genius stared at younger, both unable to find any words to say, and all that could be heard were the distant sounds of the metropolis far below and the almost inaudible movements of the air in their heavy breaths and the gentle breeze. It wasn’t cold anymore, L realized, as if the oppressive tension between them weighed down upon him like a suffocating blanket of heat. At least Light seemed to have calmed down and had uncurled his fingers from the tight fist he’d held that bit of stuffed canvas in. Now, the boy was merely lying with his head resting on his chest and his hands next to his face, and L found himself wondering if Light simply couldn’t be bothered to get up or if there was some other meaning to his remaining where he was.

Perhaps Light really wasn’t Kira after all, and he’d just been overreacting as usual. In hindsight, which was psychologically proven to be 20/20, he probably shouldn’t have said anything. What difference did the words make? If Light had indeed planned on pushing him off the building, he would have done so whether or not anything had been said. Indeed, the line of conversation he’d led them to would have neither bolstered nor detracted from the proof of Yagami Light being Kira had there been any to be found. It had been uncalled for, as usual, and he’d gone too far again. He couldn’t even attribute this sudden outburst of violence to the other’s being Kira; anyone else would presumably have snapped as well, sooner even.

He’d never really given the boy much benefit of the doubt by which to prove his innocence, and for once, he wondered if he was right in doing so. All he seemed to have been doing so far was ruining what little of their dubious friendship existed that had a chance at being genuine. Of course, this was simply based on the assumption that Light really wasn’t Kira. No matter how he thought about it, there truly was no other who fit the profile as closely. Was he merely seeing an illusory correlation by ignoring all the evidence disproving his conviction and believing the truth as he wanted it, or was there indeed something everyone was missing? He held back the usual sigh; this really never got anywhere.

“I—”

“Don’t,” Light interjected, cutting him off with a shake of his head that seemed to nuzzle his chest in the process. “Stop apologizing when you don’t mean it. It doesn’t make any difference.”

“Ya—Light-kun…”

Back in the other’s pleasant warmth, he couldn’t think of what to say. There was something wrong with their present situation, and it bothered him that Light was so quickly getting better at predicting his behaviour, but although he hated the idea from a professional and intellectual standpoint, he couldn’t deny that a part of him wanted this connection. Archnemesis or otherwise, Yagami Light was the only person he’d ever met that understood him, precisely because the younger boy was so dangerously brilliant, and the feeling that understanding brought was comforting. He was falling, he knew, but he couldn’t bring himself to hate or stop it, yet he also could not help the nagging feeling that it would cost him his life someday. How could he be seeing what he wanted to believe when he found himself now desperately wishing that Light was NOT Kira?

“Ryuuzaki…” the soft whisper of his pseudonym on Light’s lips interrupted his reverie.

He said nothing, waiting for his companion to continue.

“Let’s go skydiving together when all this is over,” came the strangely inane suggestion.

“Skydiving?” he echoed, somewhat puzzled.

He sensed more than saw the small smile curve Light’s lips. “Yes. Don’t you think it would be nice to fly freely in the sky, however briefly?”

L contemplated the idea for a few moments, wondering why it had never occurred to him before. Certainly, it was nothing he couldn’t afford -indeed, he could well afford to bring the entire investigation team with him if he so wished-, and the notion seemed a pleasant enough prospect now that he was perpending it. He imagined how it would feel like to “fly freely in the sky” and found that he rather liked the very thought of it. To engage in such an enjoyable activity with his first and only friend only added to the quality of the impression.

“That sounds like it would be pleasant,” he agreed.

A hand found his and laced their fingers together as Light murmured, “I hope we catch Kira soon, so we can do that sooner.”

In that instant, L had to keep from stiffening and upsetting Light with his supposed paranoia again. In agreeing to Light’s proposal, in making plans for after they had caught Kira, he had recognized the possibility of Light NOT being Kira without even realizing it, something he had never been willing to truly admit before. When had their friendship stopped being a lie to him? Looking back, he realized he didn’t know. L was afraid now, and the feeling was new to him, not for his life but of how his feelings were beginning to impair his judgement.

Suddenly, he wasn’t so sure he could confidently say that he would definitely bring Kira to justice no matter who the real murderer was. Had this been any normal case, he would simply withdraw from the investigation. However, that would be exactly what Kira would want, and there was as yet still no real confirmation that Yagami Light wasn’t Kira. Even as fear gripped him more strongly now, he gripped the other’s hand more tightly, lacing their fingers more closely together. What was he afraid of now, really: losing his head or losing his heart?


	12. Velvet Underworld

It was a truce, L knew as he stepped into the bedroom he shared with Light with the younger genius close behind, and one as temporary and ephemeral as the moment it was made in. After what he’d said and the way he’d used Misa to make Light join his side of the investigation, it was safe to say he’d fully expected the fist that landed on his face without warning the instant the door to their room was bolted shut. He dodged another punch before retaliating with a kick, just barely missing a fatal hit that could have broken the younger boy’s slender neck.

No words were said as they traded blows; they both knew exactly what the fight was about. He could see the fury in Light’s eyes –yes, full of the repressed violence of a subconscious murderer-, and it was not a surprise after his deliberate and honest provocation. Light’s very ability to read his thoughts so perfectly had reminded him of precisely why he was the perfect Kira, and as he did every time he made his move, he absently wondered if this would be the moment of truth, the final push that would make his enigmatic quarry let something slip.

And indeed Yagami Light was the one to break the unflinching silence of their battle. “Which is it you want, Ryuuzaki?!” he demanded angrily, his strained tenor punctuated by gasps for breath. “For me to be Kira or for Kira to be me?!”

Taken aback by the other’s piercing question, he almost failed to evade the punch that followed it. Was that it? The challenge, the adrenaline rush of the elusive chase? Indeed, did he want Yagami Light to be Kira badly enough to have a delusional conviction? He didn’t answer, striking back with a kick just a beat too slow. Light anticipated it, blocking and catching his leg, using it to push him backwards. He would have fallen had the wall not been close behind him, fallen and dragged along even, considering the force of the impact his back had on the painted concrete. In the haze of pain and confusion, warm lips were abruptly crushed to his own; the sound of protest and the shocked look on the younger boy’s face clearly showed that this was far from how he had imagined his retaliatory manoeuvre would end up.

It took just another second for L to realize that it had been he who had grabbed the boy by the collar of his shirt and hauled him forward for the lip-lock they were now engaging in and that his sometime opponent had yet to release his leg. And suddenly, before he could even reconsider, Light was returning the kiss with far more skill than he’d expected and just as much passion, pressing their bodies closer as the hand on his leg groped upwards. He broke away to moan as searching fingers chafed sensitive skin through thick denim and found his own fingers buried in honey brown hair. The other pressed an almost reverent kiss to his exposed collarbone even as another hand slid under his T-shirt to feel the bones not far beneath.

“What is this, Ryuuzaki?” The question was murmured against his neck with the barest hint of desperation.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly in a hoarse whisper.

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” He shook his head slowly, turning away.

Light pulled away to chuckle slightly, a hint of nervousness in the sound. “It is rare that you profess to not know anything.”

“Heh, L scoffed quietly, still not looking at him. “Many things have been unknown to me since I met y—Kira,” he amended as an afterthought.

For a moment, Light looked like he might get angry all over again, but then he just muttered, “Asshole.”

L decided to take his chances at lightening the situation, prepared to worsen it nevertheless. “Literally?” he asked.

Light blinked, wondering if he’d just imagined his companion’s lame attempt at a joke. Then he grinned. “Yes, literally, L; fuck you,” he replied good-humouredly, but his tender caress on pale skin betrayed his casual words.

The detective didn’t resist when he wrapped his arms tightly around him. Light wasn’t sure when half their clothes had come undone as he enjoyed L’s uninhibited reactions to his touch, having to pin the other against the wall roughly to keep him still, and the restrained scream accompanying the sensation of hot fluid on his hand before the slender body pressed to his shuddered and leaned more heavily on him. Jagged nails dug into his skin hard enough to hurt, but he made no attempt to stop them. He heard L’s panting in his right ear, and the words in a whisper that seemed at once almost a sigh of resignation.

“Too soon…”

“You’ve never…”

“Look at me.”

He leaned back to obey, gazing directly into fathomless eyes.

“Tell me, Light… Light… The truth...”

“You never believe it anyway,” he challenged. “Why does it matter now?”

L smiled thinly. “Humour me,” he replied flatly.

“I am not Kira,” Light obliged. It was the truth as he knew it, no matter what L or anyone else thought.

The older man closed his eyes –blinding himself, Light thought absently as he tried to read his lover’s expression, from his own doubts and the reality of their circumstances– and turned away, saying nothing.

“Ryuuzaki…”

And then he was being drawn in for another kiss, slower than before and deeper, even as he felt moisture where the nails pressed into his skin had drawn blood. He paid the cuts, slight pain and sticky hand no heed. Somehow, they made it to the bed, losing the rest of their clothes along the way. L, lying in his shadow on the white sheets that barely contrasted with his glistening skin — far too thin and pale to be healthy, really, let alone attractive; right then, it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Light could see the blood vessels beneath that almost-white membrane as he leaned down to tease a nipple with his tongue. L’s body arched into the contact with a soft gasp, and he realized the necessity of all the walls the detective had built around himself: underneath all that, L was delicate and sensitive; it was a kind of instinctive self-defense. He trailed kisses down that somewhat concave abdomen to find his lover semi-erect once more, and pressed a kiss to the sac beside his prize.

The older man gasped sharply and panted, “Don’t…”

“Hm?” he pressed, teasing it with a flick of his tongue as he watched the other’s reaction.

L’s face contorted at the contact as he bit his lip and writhed. “Too…sensitive…” he muttered through obviously gritted teeth.

“Mm,” he agreed, shifting his attention to the shaft next to it and watching it engorge more fully as he licked a trail up the vein beneath it while its owner dug his head back into the bed with a loud moan in response.

It was erotic to see how affected the usually distant L was by his every touch and action now, and Light revelled in the moment. Withdrawing his hand from underneath his lover, he moistened his fingers in his mouth and lifted a pale leg to press them to a sallow cleft. The detective tensed in surprise at first, then slowly relaxed as realization seemed to hit, and he took this as a sign to proceed. Gently stretching his partner the way a homosexual classmate had once elucidated in vivid detail when a girl had asked how exactly two men could have sex, Light watched obvious discomfort melt into vocal expressions of pleasure when he found the spot he was looking for and even caught the fleeting flash of disappointment in onyx eyes when he removed the digits, for once thankful he had not shut the conversation out of his mind.

Using his saliva to moisten himself further just in case, he hefted his L’s other leg up over his shoulder as well and positioned himself before that entrance. This was it. After months of watching each other watch each other, this was hardly the culmination he’d expected. Indeed, he distinctly remembered telling L he wasn’t gay and wondered when that had changed. He doubted L had planned this either, and he sought out that obsidian gaze in the darkness of the room they shared where the only light now was that of the full moon and reflected city lights from the window. They had neglected to draw the curtains today, and he was glad for the illumination by which he could clearly see his partner. He opened his mouth to ask if L was ready even as he pressed into the tight opening slightly, but the other beat him to words.

“How does it feel, Kira, on the brink of ultimate conquest?” the sleuth asked breathlessly in a cold taunt, a hard edge to his voice despite the circumstances.

In a moment of rage wherein he was simply too furious to find words to answer, Light sheathed himself far more quickly and roughly than he’d intended, and L’s scream of pain ripped through the room despite the other’s swiftly turning his face into a pillow to muffle it, the way Light realized he’d ripped something in that instant of violence thanks to the additional moisture he felt inside his lover; the realization killed his rage as quickly as the other’s words had killed the moment, and he remained perfectly still, ignoring his body’s urging him to move. He reached out to nudge the other’s chin gently with his fingertips to face him. Black eyes were moist and unreadable. He leaned forward, and seeing L squeeze his eyes shut and wince at the pain the slight movement caused killed some of his arousal.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, filled with remorse, before pressing a light kiss to slightly swollen lips. “Of all times…” he murmured sadly, kissing the detective again. “Why?”

A pallid hand released the fabric tightly fisted in it and reached out to stop the next kiss. An ashen thumb caressed his lip lightly as he leaned into the touch that cupped his cheek.

“It was a bad time,” L conceded, not looking at him.

“Talk about an understatement,” he muttered drily.

L didn’t resist when he pressed their lips together tenderly once more, even parting his lips to deepen the kiss with the barest coaxing.

“Why do you insist on making us hurt each other, Ryuuzaki?” he asked when they broke off for air, not expecting an answer.

He was surprised when one came, barely audible with a hint of hesitation. “It… makes everything seem more real…”

Light knew not what to say to the confession he wasn’t even sure he had heard from the other. “…Ryuuzaki..?”

No response was forthcoming.

“L..?” he tried again.

“It’s like… telling so many lies that even you are not sure what the truth is anymore…” L tried to explain at last, his words slow and tentative as if he wasn’t all too certain what he meant himself. “Or rather… like always risking your life, so you never know if there will be a tomorrow…” Onyx eyes were distant and contemplative.

For the longest time, Light just stared blankly at his companion. Then suddenly, he thought he understood and wondered if he’d understood it right. “You’re saying… You don’t mean that you want this pain because it makes you feel alive..?” he questioned uncertainly.

“I keep hoping you’ll snap if you’re lying,” L admitted, his tone bitter and self-deprecating. “That way I’ll have prior warning if you’re going to kill me.”

Light lowered his head to bury his face in a sallow chest at that. “I’m not Kira, L. How many times must I tell you this?” he asked, nearly desperate with frustration. After a long silence, he bitterly added almost to himself, “Heh, it makes no difference what I say, does it?” He looked up at the older man.

The detective shook his head just once, but gave no verbal reply as he pulled him close for a kiss. Hands roamed his back and slender hips moved beneath him, reminding him of where they’d left off. It wasn’t hard to find the passion they’d lost again as his partner pressed their bodies closer together, and Light moved to suckle lightly at a spot on a pale collarbone. L nibbled on his earlobe, and he moaned softly, reaching down to stroke the other’s shaft as he moved a little inside his lover experimentally. When he found no signs of pain, he withdrew and began to thrust into that heated passage, finding that place inside that he knew would give L the most pleasure. He was rewarded with moans and sighs that gradually built into cries of ecstasy.

Thin arms were wrapped tightly around him now as their tongues intertwined once more, and he stroked the arousal between them. A hand reached down to squeeze his arse lightly, and he made a sound of approval before fingers stroking his entrance had him moaning deeply into the kiss they shared and quickening his thrusts. It wasn’t long before they both came with a loud cry, and he collapsed on the willowy body below him. L unhooked his legs from slim shoulders with a soft sigh, and Light slid out of and off his companion to settle on the bed beside the sleuth.

Suddenly, it occurred to him that L had not denied his earlier conclusion. He couldn’t be definitively certain, of course, but what L didn’t say was often almost as important as what he did say. He pulled the older man into a tight embrace wordlessly, and they settled easily into each other’s arms, legs intertwining. He would have told L again that he wasn’t lying, but the detective was already asleep, and he knew the words wouldn’t matter anyway. Thus, he simply pulled a blanket over them both and closed his eyes to succumb to sleep as well.


	13. Heavy Starry Chain

He’d thought it would be a one-time mistake. Indeed, that was what it was supposed to be. And L knew that was how it should have stayed, but he hadn’t resisted the first time Light had wrapped strong arms around him in the bathroom before pulling him into the shower to do more than just bathe together. He also hadn’t stopped the boy the first time a goodnight kiss had turned into something more. And because even he was not immune to the “foot in the door” phenomenon, needless to say, he hadn’t refused subsequent similar advances. Most of the time, he regretted it, being the flagrant breach of professional ethics that it was, but never when it actually counted. That wasn’t to say his suspicion of Light being Kira had subsided. In fact, he thought this a novel idea to test the theory: perhaps Kira would reveal himself if he thought he’d won L over. At least that was how he justified this the ninety percent of the time that he wasn’t being completely honest with himself.

They’d kept this development a secret from the rest of the investigation team, of course, although there were moments like these, when Light sat across from him with a fond smile on elegantly curved lips, that made him absolutely certain that no one on the team who should still be on it could possibly be oblivious to the change. They sat facing each other over a Go board, one of the two games they often played with each other when there was a lull in the investigation; the other was chess. Misa’s interview with Yotsuba was tomorrow, so for now, there was nothing to it but to watch and wait. The game was closely matched as he capped a row of black stones with a tsuke. Light responded quickly enough, and he made his next move. The next stone was placed with a resounding clack that startled the rest of the team with the way it sliced through the usual silence of their headquarters.

Yagami Souichirou turned at the sound of glass sharply hitting wood, absently wondering why they had to play so forcefully. He was thankful, however, that they weren’t physically fighting, at least. Indeed, the violent tension that had been roiling just beneath the surface between the two geniuses since the beginning of the entire Kira fiasco seemed to have somewhat diminished recently. It was a good thing, of course, but he had learned not to hope that it meant L’s suspicions of his son being the First Kira had abated with it. L was never going to give up on that thought, he knew, no matter how close the two whizzes became. Even now, as they sat playing Go as usual, seemingly more comfortable with each other than they’d ever been since they’d met, he had to wonder how much of that ease was sincere and how much merely a façade. For Light’s sake, he hoped it was more genuine than not.

“I hope you didn’t think I’d go easy on you, Light-kun,” L murmured with a grin as they finished yose. He’d won by a slightly larger margin than usual and had been left to assume that his opponent hadn’t been trying as hard as he normally did.

“Of course not,” Light replied matter-of-factly. “I’d lose my respect for you if you did. I simply miscalculated one move. It cost me. And I suppose you’ll next accuse me of not playing my best, Ryuuzaki?”

“As you said, I’d lose my respect for you if so, but I must now assume that your miscalculation involves the mistake I made that you didn’t utilize.”

Light smiled slightly. “Perhaps,” he murmured in response, checking his watch. It was dinner time. “Let’s get something to eat,” he suggested.

The other nodded as he began clearing the board of white stones. “I think there’s still some of that chocolate cake from earlier. I’ll have Watari bring it up here.”

“Unlike you, Ryuuzaki, when I say ‘food,’ I don’t mean dessert,” he muttered drily, sweeping the black stones off the board into its tsubo.

L’s lips curved into an amused smile. “What would you like to eat then, Light-kun?”

Light shrugged slightly. “Why don’t we go out?"

Now it was L’s turn to shrug and incline his head agreeably. There was nothing else of importance to be done anyway, and it wasn’t as if Light could kill him in public. They went to their room and donned their coats before making their way out.

“Going out?” the usually quiet Mogi asked as they passed each other near the door.

Light nodded. “Want anything?”

The older man shook his head. “No, I’m fine, thank you.”

“Going on a date with MisaMisa?” Matsuda piped up cheerfully from where he sat, looking over some files.

“Nah… She’d make it a long date. I just want a quick bite and some fresh air right now.”

The young policeman nodded, understanding.

“Want anything from outside?” Light offered, ever considerate.

“Hmm… Yeah, if you see a takoyaki stand anywhere, mind getting me some? I kinda miss it,” Matsuda requested sheepishly.

“Right. Dad?”

“Hm?” Yagami Souichirou looked up from the document he was reading. “Oh. Nothing. I’m fine. No, thank you, Light.”

“Then I’ll be going.”

With that, he turned to the elevators, and L merely nodded to the rest of the team as the doors shut. It was hardly surprising that Light was so popular; he always seemed so nice and thoughtful. They walked out into the open, and Light stretched as the first burst of cold fresh air hit him. The chain jingled between them, and L shivered slightly. The temperature had dropped since earlier in the day, and it was somewhat chillier than he’d expected. When Light began walking again, he simply followed without breaking the companionable silence between them, not much caring what they ended up eating, since he’d only really enjoy dessert anyway. He took the opportunity to pull his puffy black coat more snugly around himself as Light paused beside a ramen stand where a few people sat slurping down large steaming bowls of noodles noisily.

“How about here?” the younger boy suggested.

He shrugged, shivering a little as he did so. He had to admit the smell was tempting even if it wasn’t something he would normally eat.

“You should have worn more,” Light chided softly, noticing the frisson. Then he was unwinding the dark gray woollen scarf around his neck to coil it around L’s. “Here,” he murmured, arranging the muffler carefully around the detective’s neck.

“Won’t you be cold then?”

His eyes softened slightly at the older man’s concern. “I’ll be fine,” he said reassuringly. “This coat has a high collar,” he explained, zipping his light silver-gray trench coat up a little more.

L nodded as he found them two stools at the ramen stand, and Light quickly ordered a shoyu ramen with pork chop. The other stared at the many hanging wooden signs that listed all the available varieties of ramen for a long moment before finally giving up and ordering the same, and Light figured that the genius had finally decided that some things just weren’t worth the brainpower. They sat in silence as they waited for their food, and Light wondered if L was thinking about the possibility of him being Kira even now. Speaking of Kira, however, over the past several days, he had come to wonder what he would do if he had Kira’s powers. If L was right, then he’d use it to eliminate criminals, but did he really have it in him to be a murderer no matter the justification?

“Say… I’ve been wondering…”

“Hm?”

“What would you do, Ryuuzaki, if you had Kira’s powers?” Light regretted asking the instant the question left his lips.

“If you’re trying to br—”

“Forget it,” he interrupted sharply, rolling his eyes. “Forget I asked. It slipped my mind for a moment there that I can’t have a hypothetical discussion about this with you.”

L fell silent at that, and Light was thankful for the arrival of their noodles, since it meant that they had an excuse to drop the subject. Unfortunately, he had also temporarily overlooked the fact that when it came to social situations, his companion genuinely didn’t know how to take a hint.

“Light-kun is cross with me,” L remarked after several minutes, eating his ramen one strand at a time.

Light chose to ignore that for the sake of his temper. “If you eat like that, we’ll be here till midnight,” he said instead, keeping his voice even.

The sleuth acquiesced to his implied request, and began eating more quickly, that is to say, normally. “It’s good,” he commented after a few mouthfuls.

Light inclined his head agreeably. This was one of the better ramen vendors in the vicinity. “You’re probably enjoying the subtle sweetness of the soy sauce in it,” he muttered under his breath.

L blinked; he’d heard the younger genius’s quiet aside. Suddenly uncomfortable, he looked away, concentrating on his meal. “You know me too well.”

Coming from anyone else, that statement would have been fond, affectionate, but in L’s case, it was pure paranoia. Light sighed. “Anyone else on the team could have said the same, Ryuuzaki. Your sweet tooth is no secret.”

The detective said nothing, but Light heard his unspoken reply. _You know that isn’t what I was referring to._

He sighed again, but chose not to say anything, and they finished their dinner in silence. He paid the owner before leading L a little way down the street to check if the takoyaki stand was there. It seemed Matsuda was in luck. He order two servings just in case one was not enough, and stood in wait as the plump middle-aged lady made the takoyaki, ignoring her less than surreptitious glances at the chain between himself and L. It was quite an obvious sight with them standing two feet apart. When it was done, he paid her for it and was about to leave to return to their investigation headquarters when he suddenly noticed another stall nearby.

He caught the questioning look on the detective’s face as he tugged at the chain lightly to make him come along, but declined to explain, merely glancing knowingly at his lover as they reached the little stall. It sold a variety of confectionery, including mochi, ohagi and daifuku. He was rewarded when L’s eyes lit up, quite like a child who had just received his favourite toy as a birthday present, and stood aside with a fond smile as L ordered more of the confection than could possibly be healthy. When L was finally satisfied, they began their walk back, both with a bag in one hand, and L immediately began munching on a strawberry daifuku. It wasn’t until they’d rounded the bend onto the empty street their headquarters faced that the silence was broken, amazingly enough, by L.

“Light-kun?”

“Hm?”

There was a long pause as L hesitated, uncertain. “…Thank you,” he said at last.

Light blinked, surprised and puzzled, having no idea what he was being thanked for. He thought to ask, but then decided the better of it and simply smiled warmly in response, taking a pale hand in his own. He didn’t let go until they reached the entrance.


	14. Total Eclipse of the Heart

Darkness.

It was always dark, pitch dark—

Nothing but cold jet black, and it was oppressive.

Always, always, he felt that strangling chill… always, always, he wandered lost in the dark…and he would feel so alone.

But there was something different about this time… He felt the unknown urgency even as he wrapped his arms around himself to ward off the bitter iciness and sunk into the floor, only there was no floor, only a strange solidity in the nothingness, and the cold that wouldn’t go away no matter how he shivered.

Suddenly, there was fear. It coursed through his veins as his mind screamed, “Danger!” at him. For he recognized it now. Something was coming, coming for him, and he was in DANGER. He hated to admit that he was afraid even as he leaped up and started running—

He wasn’t sure where he was running to, wasn’t sure where that THING was coming from, there was no sense of direction in this endless void, this single consciousness in infinite oblivion, and he was _afraid_. He couldn’t seem to escape no matter how he ran, but to stand still was worse. If he ran, he at least felt like he was making an effort, no matter how futile it appeared to be.

One step after another – he was tired, but he couldn’t stop. If he stopped, it would catch him, and if it did, he would... He wasn’t sure what was going to happen if he was caught, but he knew it would be bad, very bad.

There was water dripping around him now. The air was damp and musty, making the icy chill all the more bitter, and the dripping was growing louder. Water splashed and sloshed beneath his shoes as he ran, although nothing appeared to have changed in that endless void.

Drip-drip-drip-slush-slush-drip—

The sounds echoed and reverberated in the nothingness over and over again, growing increasingly louder until he was sure he would go insane if it continued. He could hear his footsteps through the echoes, and they were growing deafening. He covered his ears and squeezed his eyes shut as he ran, but the rabble wouldn’t go away; it wouldn’t go away and kept getting louder—

Abruptly, his foot caught on something, and he fell, reflexively using his arms to break his fall. He turned. White, black and blue filled his vision, and it blurred with crimson. Red, so much red, staining the white and everything that he was, that stale metallic stench seeping into his skin even as a silent scream tore from his lips, and he screamed and screamed—

Yagami Light sat up in bed, screaming like the life was being violently wrenched from his body. The sheets, his clothes and his hair were damp with perspiration, and he ran his hands through clammy honey-brown strands as the relieving realization that it was only a nightmare sank in, burying his face in his knees as his hands fisted in his hair, and he tried to shut the horrible images from his mind’s eye.

 _It’s a dream, just a dream, just a dream, just a dream,_ he mentally chanted to himself like a litany again and again, shuddering slightly as a shaky exhalation escaped his lips.

Chain links clinked softly beside him, and then a familiar deep gentle voice was asking softly, “Light? Light-kun? Are you alright?”

L. L. Light turned. L, warm and alive; no crimson, no stale metallic blood on his face, his hands, his clothes, gushing from a huge gash from his throat to his abdomen. He grabbed the other by the shoulders and crushed the stunned detective in a choking embrace, desperately burying his face in a bony shoulder and folds of white cotton. He had to feel it — feel that vital warmth, hear the steady beat of a living heart, breathe in that musty scent that he had come to love. Yes, yes, he loved L, Ryuuzaki, and he knew it beyond a shadow of doubt now as he whispered both names brokenly, choking on the syllables, into that familiar baggy white T-shirt.

“Light-kun?” came the enquiry again, now laced with a little concern. L tentatively wrapped bony arms around his companion. This was not like Yagami Light at all. In fact, it was so uncharacteristic of the brunet that all suspicion of the other being Kira had temporarily escaped his mind’s grasp. “It is just a nightmare, isn’t it?”

Light inhaled deeply, calming down and relaxing slightly in the sleuth’s arms, before nodding. “Yes. I’m sorry for overreacting like this.” He straightened and ran a hand through his damp brown hair again.

“It must have been quite terrible.”

Light was gradually getting used to the fact that L sounded less sincere the harder he tried, and he simply flopped back gracelessly onto cool damp sheets without answering, staring up blankly at the clean off-white ceiling.

L stared awkwardly at the other boy, his brilliant detective mind racing for something appropriate to say or do in the situation, but his ingenuity typically failed him in social contexts, and this time was no different. It was a rather long moment before he realized that he would probably have a better idea of what to do if he knew what the dream was about.

“What was it about?” he enquired tentatively.

Light stiffened, he hoped, imperceptibly. What could he say? The truth would invite the false accusation that he was Kira. A lie was worse; Ryuuzaki would probably know he was lying and suspect him more. “I dreamed… I… God, Ryuuzaki…” he whispered; it was difficult to say the words when he knew exactly what was coming. “I dreamed that… that you were dead,” he finished truthfully at last.

A pregnant pause followed wherein Light could almost see the gears turning in that gifted brain, so much so he perfectly anticipated the cold question that came from it.

“Is that your subconscious wish?”

He sighed wearily. “Dreams are a subconscious manifestation of both subconscious desires and fears,” he murmured, acknowledging the other’s line of reasoning.

“Indeed. So do you desire my death so badly or do you fear the consequences my death will bring to you, Kira?” L continued without looking at him, and he could almost see the tension in his lover’s skinny frame.

“Please… no,” he pleaded quietly, running his left hand through his hair. “Ryuuzaki, don’t do this now…”

At that, L whirled around to glare at him, or as close to a real glare as L ever got, onyx eyes almost painful in their intensity. “Then when should I do it, Yagami-kun? When you’ve killed me? When you’ve claimed your throne as God of the New World? When—”

In a lightning quick motion, he’d grabbed the nearest pale arm and hauled its owner down to hold him close to so that their legs half intertwined, and his lover’s head rested on the place where shoulder and chest met. L gasped as if the contact hurt him, but a hand fisted in his damp shirt, and the gesture met no resistance. L buried his face in his chest, and Light tightened his embrace in response, wrapping his other arm around a thin waist as he slid his hand into the mess of black strands to gently massage the older man’s scalp with his fingertips. A slight tremor ran through that lanky body, accompanied by a shaky exhalation, before he felt the detective relax. Even then, he suspected it was forced. L never got any less paranoid; he just stowed his paranoia away for later use and/or contemplation.

Light opened his mouth, wanting to tell the other genius something, but closed it again. It was best that he think through his words carefully before he provoked another semi-panic attack from the ever-suspicious detective. “I can never convince you otherwise, can I?” he asked instead.

There was a long moment of silence wherein his words seemed to hang heavily in the air. “That you are not Kira? No,” L agreed evenly at length, moving the hand once fisted in Light’s shirt closer to his mouth for him to nibble on the thumb. “Not until the killings stop permanently, and you are still conclusively proven innocent beyond a shadow of doubt.” Only the subtle violence in the way he was biting at his thumbnail showed how much the answer pained him.

“I…” Light began, pausing to gather both the words and the humility to say them. “I’m… afraid…” he whispered.

He’d always been certain that he couldn’t possibly be Kira, but –maybe it was the nightmare, perhaps he was finally succumbing to the coercion of L’s continued insistence– sometimes now, he wondered if he was so certain anymore. What if L was right, and he’d simply lost his memories thereof? He’d perpended this, and he’d realized that his memories from the months just before his voluntary imprisonment were unusually hazy. What if it was really true? What if he regained his powers and memories? Would he have to kill his adversary? Could he kill his lover? Was he really a murderer as the detective so clearly believed? He didn’t know now, and that uncertainty was terrifying. If he couldn’t even believe in himself, how could he convince anyone else to do so? How could he convince L to do so?

Another long paused followed his admission. Then, his companion asked, “That I may be right?” The head on his chest tilted back for deep black eyes to stare up at him.

He hesitated before nodding without meeting the other’s typically intense gaze. “What if I really am Kira, as you say? What if I do someday regain my powers?”

“Light.”

L had even dropped the honorific in his hurry to stop the younger boy. He didn’t want to hear it. He’d always thought he could handle the truth, but suddenly now, he didn’t want to hear it. This was bad. What do people do when all their pretenses abruptly become their reality? What, indeed, could they do? He couldn’t even continue speaking. If he really had to send Light to the death row someday, could he still live with himself beyond that, knowing he’d killed the only person he’d ever loved like this, and if he dared believe it, who’d ever loved him this way? He regretted now his decision to become so personally involved in this case. He had failed to accurately foresee how much would come to be at risk. He’d never feared death; life had always been the more difficult of the pair. However, he’d grossly overestimated his ability to separate his personal and professional realities, underestimated Yagami Light’s ability to worm his way into his heart.

“What if I’ll really have to kill you someday?” Light continued, now with an almost manic urgency. “What if I really am Kira, Ryuuzaki? What if I really am a murderer?” He rolled them both over before burying his face where neck and shoulder melded, pressing kisses to pale skin and inhaling that familiar musty scent. “I don’t want you to die, Ryuuzaki; I don’t want to lose you...” he trailed off miserably into indistinct mumbling, fumbling for the older man’s hand to lace their fingers together desperately.

“Light-kun…” L murmured, not shifting his gaze from the ceiling, but the apple white paint provided no inspiration on what to say next.

“I don’t… I love you, Ryuuzaki. I know that now.”

“Don’t,” he interjected, more sharply than he’d intended. “Don’t.” More gently now, it was almost a pleading whisper. “If you have any mercy at all… I might start to believe you. Ki—”

Soft lips roughly crushed themselves to his own, interrupting his words. He made a sound of protest even as his mouth was unceremoniously invaded, but found his fingers clawing for purchase in the thin cotton fabric covering the younger boy’s back. He was holding Light just as tightly and returning the kiss with equal passion. He’d daresay Yagami Souichirou would be appalled to know the kinds of activities he engaged in with his perfect son when the cameras whose feeds only he watched were the only existent eyes.

They broke apart marginally for air, and he barely heard the whispered words muffled by his lips and their heavy breathing. “In the ever-changing variables of this ephemeral reality, I wish for only this to be constant.”

“Light,” he began once more, but again their lips met before he could say any more.

Brown eyes were still closed tightly as a hand reached up to cup his cheek; he did the same and the younger genius leaned into his touch desperately. They broke the kiss again, and Light spoke again in a soft murmur close to his skin. “Even if we should one day die as enemies, I want to believe this feeling would live on and be real.”

“Stop, Light-kun,” he managed to say this time, even successfully keeping his voice calm and serious. “Before I accuse you of emotional manipulation as Kira,” he added wryly.

His companion chuckled slightly at that, finally opening his eyes to look at him. Neither moved nor said anything as chocolate met onyx, for nothing worthwhile could be said; it was easier to seek meaning in the spaces between words. And then, suddenly, they were both moving brusquely, hands practically ripping cloth from skin, bodies pressing close with an almost brutal force. They attacked each other, almost ferociously, as if resolution here could redefine the harsh rules that governed reality, as if by chafing violently at sweat-slick skin the embedded truths could be erased like one would scrub stains off a wall.

Taking the boy in his mouth, he had to grip the lean thighs draped over his shoulders to keep them from nearly strangling him as he watched his prey moan, writhe, arch and beg under his ministrations with growing exhilaration. It was akin to a drug-like high to see the tightly controlled Yagami Light in this moment of surrender; if the brunet really turned out to be Kira, then so much the better for him. Yes, Kira, his greatest adversary, the only worthy challenge he’d ever encountered – L would possess him now like he knew no one else ever could. He felt his own pleasure peaking even as he continued to stroke the younger boy to completion with his tongue, riding on that addictively thrilling sense of power and control of having made one who thought himself above it all finally fall.

That was when he caught himself, as his lover came in his mouth and he swallowed the spurt of hot semen with little difficulty, and the realization of what he had been thinking made his blood run cold. Power… Control… The crushing of others’ hubris to further his own… That line of thought had been frightfully Kira-like. He continued to absently lick and nibble at the organ in his mouth, holding it gently in his hand now; he barely heard Light’s soft whimpers as extra sensitive flesh was over-stimulated, so lost in his thoughts. Was constantly trying to think like Kira to predict his next move turning him into his enemy? Or had it been an underlying sense of subconscious kinship that had drawn him to Kira in the first place? The prospect was a terrifying one even as Light’s question from before echoed in his auditory memory.

_“What would you do, Ryuuzaki, if you had Kira’s powers?”_

Indeed, what would he do? Could he even be certain that he wouldn’t be doing exactly as Kira was doing now, punishing criminals?

“L?”

He glanced up, brought out of his reverie at the sound of his name.

Light was biting his bottom lip lightly, and the intermittent tremor shook his lean body. “I called you twice earlier. You didn’t respond.” Brown eyes softened in concern. “Are you alright? Did I hurt you?”

 _More than you will ever know._ L stopped what he was doing to speak. “No… I’m fine. Should I stop?” There was no sense in telling the other that he had simply been lost in thought. That much was obvious and would only provoke the question of what he had been perpending, which would probably just have them fighting all over again.

The corners of the brunet’s mouth curved up in the barest hint of a smile. “It’s…not an unpleasant feeling,” he replied, closing his eyes and sighing shakily as a long finger traced the main vein of his length.

L crawled forward to lie half atop his companion and claim that mouth in a languid kiss. Did he really want Yagami Light and Kira to be one and the same? Where did rivalry end and love begin? He did love Light, or at least he thought he did, but was it love or just a triumphant feeling of conquest? Or was Kira the one he was really in love with? It was true that it had been the possibility of the boy’s being Kira that had drawn him to Yagami Light, but was that still true now? Was he only in love with the spirit of Kira he saw in his prime suspect, that dangerous brilliance flashing occasionally in those molten chocolate eyes? All at once, the fulfilling triumph of victory he had looked forward to for so long had been replaced by an empty pain.

Warm arms wrapped around him in a loving embrace, and as if reading his mind, his lover asked, “If I really turned out to be Kira someday, would you hate me, Ryuuzaki?”

Without missing a beat, he replied, “If you are lying even now, then yes, I would.”

He didn’t hate Kira. He opposed him, yes, but that was an intellectual enmity, a clash of principles and beliefs. In fact, he rather admired Kira for being able to elude him for this long. However, he would certainly hate Yagami Light if he someday found out that everything the boy had ever said and done in this time frame had been nothing but a huge, magnificent lie. He couldn’t blame the boy if his theory of memory loss with the passing on of the power proved true, but if the brunet had been acting all this while…

“I thought you’d say that."

Light began to rock against him again, with all the gentleness that had ensnared him and drawn him in like a bed of quicksand now, and he wrapped his legs around that slender waist to add to the delicious friction they shared, feeling once more that heavy ache in his chest. If he had to liken their relationship to something, he would describe it as contentedly walking on a large ring suspended over an abyss, never getting anywhere and always just one misstep short of death, ever wavering between the contentment in that status quo and resignation of its inescapability.

“Somehow, I think Kira would respect L as a worthy adversary.”

“Speaking on Kira’s behalf, are you?” he riposted automatically in a half moan.

Light sighed wearily, burying his face in spiky black hair. “Take it any way you want to, Ryuuzaki. I give up convincing you otherwise.”

L said nothing to that. A reply would most probably make matters worse; it always did. When certainty was fleeting and words were treacherous, silence was a golden stronghold of security and honesty. No more was said between them that night.


	15. Scarlet World

It was over.

It was all over now.

Everything he had set out to accomplish with this wildly risky plan was done. L was dead, the investigation team was on his side, and both Misa and he were free. And yet, as he cradled the slowly cooling body of his archnemesis in his arms, all he felt was pain.

No, that wasn’t exactly right. Kira was rejoicing, triumphant. But for Yagami Light, who had foolishly managed to genuinely fall in love with his adversary, all he had was this profound emptiness. It was his mistake, of course; he had no one to blame but himself. But now, he had finally paid the ultimate price for changing this world, giving up everything that was dear to him; truly, in this instant, he was a broken messiah, and he swore to make his losses worthwhile.

The rest of the investigation team exchanged glances as Light sat by the long table they had laid L’s body on with a vacant expression on his face. A van would come in the morning to secretly transport the body for a quiet burial, since they had decided it was best to keep L’s passing a secret from the public and, hopefully, Kira. In the meantime, however, no one really knew what to say or do where they had gathered in this smaller chamber to offer a moment of respect for the dead detective. While Light and L had seemed to eventually warm up to each other somewhat over the past months, they had mostly assumed it to be mutual respect and professional solidarity. Thus, no one had expected Light to react almost hysterically to the detective’s death, to be so deeply affected or so stricken with grief now.

Matsuda had grown fond of both geniuses over their time here, despite their many fights and eccentricities. He admired them both, and it was always a thrill to watch them at work together, even if he usually didn’t understand half of what they were really discussing; simple words always seemed to have a greater significance between them than he ever perceived. He was very sad that L was dead, although he supposed L would have been satisfied with this, dying in the pursuit of his greatest challenge, only regretting not having won in the end. And while he had watched relations between the two improve as time passed, he had to admit he was still rather shocked at the pained cry that despair, sorrow and anger had wrenched forth from the younger boy. At a loss for what to do, he looked surreptitiously around at the others, but it appeared that everyone else shared his predicament. He sighed. Just when he’d thought they’d made progress in the investigation, such a tragedy had to happen.

Yagami Souichirou searched for something, anything, to say to his son. He had never seen the boy like this, not even when his favourite grandmother had passed away years ago. The little boy had cried then, but today, it seemed the teenager’s grief was beyond tears. In a way, he thought he could understand; Light had finally found a friend he could really connect with, that could think at his level, and to so abruptly lose him now just as they’d finally seemed to come to some sort of understanding… Well, he had to admit he really couldn’t quite imagine just how terrible it must feel. It was probably best to get back to work to take everyone’s mind off the sudden tragedy, and since there wasn’t really anything he could say about what had just transpired, he figured he might as well ask if there was anything to be done.

“Light, if t—”

“Please,” the boy interjected quietly, his voice a hoarse whisper. “If we—” He caught himself. “If I could have some time alone…”

Everyone made some inconspicuous sound of agreement and hastened to make themselves scarce, eager to get away from the oppressive gloom and tense silence of the chamber. His father was the last to leave, and Light felt the old man’s eyes train on him for a few seconds in concern just before the door clicked shut. He waited till the last of the footfalls faded from his hearing before he finally let it all go.

Light laughed.

No, Kira laughed. Madly, insanely, maniacally. He had won, after all, and he deserved his moment of glory to stand triumphant over his fallen enemy and rejoice. The cameras had been turned off in this room to make sure there would be no record of L’s death, so for now, there was no one to watch as he celebrated his victory, tears running down his cheeks to fall on pasty skin.

Light was crying. He hadn’t cried since he’d finished grade school, perhaps even before that, and he certainly hadn’t foreseen himself crying on this day, the day the culmination of everything he had worked towards in the past months finally came to fruition. It was funny, really. He’d never thought himself the sort to have DID. At once, he was both Kira, who had just defeated his greatest enemy, and Yagami Light, who had just killed the only person he’d ever loved. He couldn’t even decipher his own feelings about the situation as he laughed and wept simultaneously; it was all so terribly confusing.

Yet, as he reached for his dead lover’s hand through the haze of confusion, Kira’s cold resolution reached his mind, and he knew. He knew then what he must do even as the laughter died in his throat. There was no place for these feelings in the world he was going to create; they could only impair his judgement. He would have to bury them with L; it was time to kill the boy known as Yagami Light and, in a sense of twisted romanticism, let him die with his beloved Ryuuzaki once and for all. This was the last time genuine tears would spill from these eyes, the last time this heart would beat with warmth, the last night of Yagami Light’s life on this world. In the morning, only Kira would exist, but for now, he would rest and leave his foolish lovelorn former self to his sorrow.

Light pressed a kiss to cold lips, holding a frigid hand in his own, hoping to preserve what little warmth there was left. He hadn’t thought it possible for the detective’s pale skin to get any more ashen than it already usually was, but he knew better now as he buried his face in a still chest to let the familiar white T-shirt soak up his tears. He had shut this part of himself out throughout the past few days because it was imperative that he remained the cold and calculating God of the New World to think through the rest of his plan objectively, but now that it was all over, he could finally let himself grieve for this final loss. He’d hoped against hope that L would not force his hand, but he knew his lover well enough; it was too much to hope for, and as a result, he’d had to be eliminated as expected. What he hadn’t expected, of course, was how much it would hurt to do so.

When he wasn’t thinking as Kira, he remembered the last few days with painful clarity. The scream of horror as he’d regained his memory to realize that his worst fears were indeed the truth, and that he would soon have to kill the man he’d come to love, just before he had quickly let the part of himself known as Kira take over to carry out the rest of his ruthless plan, still rang clearly in his mind. He remembered secretly praying fervently that Misa would remember L’s real name, so that he could proceed with his ideal plan of letting the case blow over before killing L after he’d left and stopped investigating, thereby extending his lover’s lifespan and giving himself time to forget these pointless feelings in the meantime. That would have been for the best. That way, this wouldn't hurt as much.

Then, there was the brief fight he’d had with L once they were alone in their room about why he was still with Misa. L had naturally suspected it was because they were both Kira, but because Kira obviously couldn’t confess that, Light had been forced to lie to Ryuuzaki for the first time since he’d lost his memory. He explained that the others would find it strange for him to do otherwise after everything that had happened, seeing as they had been dating even before the investigation had begun, and he couldn’t very well announce that he was now in a relationship with a certain sleuth, unless that was what L wanted. Thankfully, L had conceded to his reasoning, and they had dropped the subject after he’d almost gleefully coaxed a subtle admission of jealousy from Ryuuzaki.

It had been raining all day today, as if the sky itself had foreseen this tragedy, and he could still hear the sound of rainfall outside the window. Earlier, not finding the detective where he was usually questioning Rem about the workings of the Death Note, he had gone in search of him, finally finding the older genius on the rooftop, standing in the rain at the exact spot where they had lain holding hands for the very first time. When the other hadn’t heard his calls –and he couldn’t be sure the other hadn’t only pretended not to hear him just to get him out in the downpour as well–, he’d walked out into the rain to ask him why he was standing there getting himself drenched.

“What are you doing, Ryuuzaki?”

“Nothing in particular. It’s just the sound of bells…” L had seemed melancholic, half lost in his thoughts.

“Bells?” It was so inane and obscure that he’d had to wonder if there was a hidden meaning to it; with L, that was hardly unusual.

“Yeah, the bells are really noisy today...”

“I can’t hear anything.”

“Really?” A pause. “Conditions are favourable today, so one can’t help but notice them... It’s a church… Maybe a wedding? Or…”

 _Or a funeral?_ he’d mentally finished, even as he’d hastily interrupted, not wanting the other to continue. “What are you talking about, Ryuuzaki?” The meaning he had begun to read into the seemingly idle observation was making everything he had known was to come so much harder. “Don’t be saying such useless things,” he’d chided quickly. “Let’s go back.” _Because…if we walk forward now, we can never come back. Ryuuzaki…_

Instead of agreeing, L had apologized out of the blue. “I’m sorry… I’m distant in my relations with people, and I don’t trust anyone either.” It was as if he’d heard everything Light hadn’t said, as if he’d known they were running out of time, that he wouldn’t get another chance to say these outwardly frivolous things that at once seemed somehow so very important.

For a long time, he had remained silent because he hadn’t known what to say to that. It was like grasping at a fading mist, that feeling…that desperation, desperation to convey some meaning that they either didn’t have the language to describe or that they had too many reasons not to articulate. Always, all they could do was to verbalize what little they could and hope that the other would understand, somehow, all the emotion in the spaces between those painfully deficient words. It was never adequate, always somehow lacking, and even now, he didn’t think they’d ever been enough. Like grasping at the mist, his fingers, even now, still closed on nothingness.

In the end, he’d agreed with a hint of fond exasperation. “Yeah, Ryuuzaki. You try not to get involved in relationships. If it’s something that shouldn’t be, then you won’t involve yourself in it in the first place. I know that best.”

And yet, they were together…somehow. It was a mistake, they’d always known, a mistake on both their parts, and yet, neither of them had wanted to stop; he hadn’t wanted or needed an apology for something they’d both accepted. Of course he knew it was special. He had succeeded in ensnaring L beyond his wildest dreams, and he almost hated Kira’s self-satisfaction about that conquest; it detracted from the quality of their bond. Naturally, he’d suspected the sleuth of trying to guilt-trip the truth from his lips, and a part of Light wished he could tell him, but that was sadly not to be.

“Yes, that’s how it is, Light,” his lover had confirmed his observation, still in that same gloomy voice. “But aren’t you like that as well?”

“What do you mean?” Well, in a manner of speaking, it was somewhat true, but it wasn’t quite the same. He wasn’t avoidant of relationships with people; he simply didn’t put any more of his heart into them than was strictly necessary to make them seem convincingly sincere. The problem was that he’d been careless this time; he’d let L in far too deep.

A piercing black gaze had turned to train intensely on him then. “Since you were born, have you ever told the truth even once?” Yet another insinuation that he was really Kira. And he had heard Ryuuzaki’s real question, unspoken but implied in disguise: _Have you been lying to me all this time?_

Refusing to rise to the bait, he’d feigned bewilderment, asking, “What are you saying, Ryuuzaki?” Then, he’d paused, considering how best to answer both the verbal and silent question, searching for a way to tell the other what he needed to say, what his lover needed to hear, without either lying or disclosing too much. “It’s true, of course, that I lie occasionally, but there is no human that has never spoken anything but the truth from his lips, is there? Humans can’t be that perfect; everyone lies. Even so, I would never tell lies that hurt the people I love.” It was the truth, undoubtedly; he hadn’t lied where it really mattered between them. “That’s my answer,” he’d added, hoping that his underlying meaning had been communicated. _Not where it counts, Ryuuzaki, no._

“I thought you’d say that…” The older man had seemed to grow terribly sad then as he’d turned away. “Let’s head back. We’re soaking wet.”

“Aa.” That was when he’d realized that L was about to make his last move.

They had gone back indoors to shower and towel off then, and he’d pulled his shivering lover into his arms the instant they were both naked in the bathroom. There had been a sense of finality to their lovemaking, somehow, as if they had both known it would be their last, and not a word had been exchanged. He was well aware that L had always known the truth deep down inside; the detective just couldn’t prove it. And he also knew for certain that L would try to find proof no matter how futile it seemed. So as they had clung desperately to each other under the cascade of warm water, he’d wished time would stop for them, wished circumstances had been just a little different, wished there was a way to bring L over to his side, wished that they could just be Light and Ryuuzaki without at once being Kira and L.

And as Ryuuzaki had insisted on giving him a brief foot massage as they sat towelling their hair dry later, he’d wished he could find a way, any way, to keep the other from signing his own death warrant. L had even given him a final opening, remarking despondently that it was lonely and that he’d soon understand. But he couldn’t, not without revealing the truth, and he knew that even if L would have been happy to win, it would not have been a satisfactory victory. L deserved better, and Light wouldn’t disappoint him. It would be better to have lost fighting valiantly to the bitter end than to have won an easy victory because the opponent admitted defeat. And thus, he had remained silent, letting Kira relish the final showdown.

In spite of all this, despite knowing how things would end and that everything was as it should be, he still hadn’t been prepared for the moment L dropped the spoon and fell over. He’d reacted instinctively, his body diving to catch the other of its own accord. A pale hand had gripped his shoulder as he’d held the now familiar lanky body in his arms, and he’d wanted to scream. There was no time; it was never enough; they’d never had any. L –Ryuuzaki– deserved to know the truth, but there was no way to tell him. And so Light had shown him, in that angle where only L could see, Kira’s sinister smile of triumph even as his own heart was breaking. He saw the flash of betrayal and hurt in onyx eyes and wished he could apologize but couldn’t, wished he could tell his lover how much he’d truly meant to him but couldn’t, and then it had been replaced by calm acceptance as his archnemesis finally conceded a long hard battle well fought. And Light had screamed; it was too much. He’d called the other’s name desperately, despite knowing full well that he did so in vain, and screamed from the depths of his soul. Kira let him, of course, even as he laughed maniacally inside the boy’s head; there was no better cover for his malice then a lover’s sincere grief. It had ended as it should have; everything was going according to plan.

He pulled the gangly corpse closer to him now, holding it in his arms for the last time as his tears finally ran dry. Yes, it really was terribly lonely. “I’m sorry…” he whispered at last. “If only I could have convinced you, L, we would never have come to this.”

It was really all he could find in himself to say aloud; there were no words to properly express everything he wished he could have told his lover in those few seconds before the end. Everything they had had always existed in the spaces between words anyway, and it was probably for the best that it remain as such, for words had never done anything but detract from the meaningful messages they exchanged in silence. Light had loved Ryuuzaki; if there was only one single truth he had uttered in the past months he’d spent chained to the late detective, that would have been it. But changing the world was more important than one man’s feelings, and sometimes, sacrifices had to be made for the greater good. He knew L would agree in principle and that in making this terrible choice, he had at least preserved their mutual respect. Yet, there was no denying that he’d betrayed their love no matter how great his justification, and because of that, he swore now that his lover’s sacrifice would not go to waste. He would ensure it using any and all means available.

 _I’ll show you, Ryuuzaki; I’ll prove my viewpoint to you. Let me show you the world I dreamed of, a world without crime, one where only the goodhearted will live in peace. So watch me, L, from wherever you are, as I shape this Earth. Perhaps then, when you see that I am right, you can understand; perhaps then you can forgive me. I’ll show you, Ryuuzaki; you will not die in vain,_ Light promised silently, his arms tightening fiercely around the other’s stiffening body one last time.

Knowing he wouldn’t be disturbed for a while, he finally reached behind and under his shirt for the Death Note Rem had left behind, flipping it open to seek the name that had eluded him all this while. When he found it at length, he wanted to scream again, but he restrained himself, settling instead for a bitter chuckle of cruel irony as he tucked the notebook back in its place. Who would have thought the answer had always been right in front of him; he’d known half of it all along. And yet, in retrospect, he realized that it was just like L to do such a thing. It had been a perfect strategy, hiding the answer in plain sight, and it had caused Kira no end of trouble for so long. He probably should have expected as much. At long last, he stood, composing himself as he laid the late detective out on the table properly again and pressing one last kiss to white knuckles.

It was over.

Everything had ended the way he had foreseen it all those months ago. L was dead, and he had died with Kira’s respect, Light’s love and the truth; it was far more than could be said for anyone, and no one was more worthy of the honour than he – his L, his Ryuuzaki, enemy, rival, friend and lover.

L was dead.

L Lawliet was dead, and Yagami Light had died with him.

Take me like you love me  
Love me like you hate me  
Hate me like I've broken you  
Break me because I hurt you  
Hurt me like you mean it  
Mean it like it's over  
And when it's over, kill me  
Kill me and take me with you


End file.
